Lifetimes
by me and Mr. Jones
Summary: This is the 'lifetimes' of Klaine. If reincarnation exists. please read and review. This time... present! Klaine! *heart* PART TWO UP! THE FINAL CHAPTER. I am going to miss this story. Thanks to all my readers.
1. 1600's

_Ok this is quite possible the most random Klaine idea to ever pop into my head, and I've had some pretty weird stuff. This is just the first chapter, I have one more written and many more in mind. If you hate it and never want to see the rest, that's fine. But let me know and I will continue posting. Also this is so far into fiction land it's like the middle of the desert. If I do post the rest every story Kurt and Blaine have a different name (hopefully matching the time that it was meant to be from) but the 'Kurt' character's name will start with a 'K' each chapter and the 'Blaine' character will start with a 'B'. They are mostly OOC with hints of kurt and blaine. Um… I don't own the characters, because they are all based on Ryan's characters…. Hope you enjoy _

It wasn't supposed to feel this good. Kahn rubbing their hips together like this wasn't supposed to feel good. It was a sin, and punishable by death in their small town, well not technically, but if they were caught, they'd been strung up for being "devils". Benjamin moaned against Kahn's kisses, which were so much better than the girl's he was courting, Rachel.

"I'm here, they can't hurt us here," Kahn claimed into his mouth, as though he knew what he was thinking. And honestly, he probably did, Kahn had been his best friend since they were children, they had been around 12 when they discover their similar feelings towards one another. Now at 17 they were taking full advantage of those feelings, doing what boys do best.

"Oh Kahn," he breathed as the smaller boy pulled his pants down, just enough to reveal his perfect bottom. Kahn looked back, fearfully, worrying that he had gone too far, Benjamin however could not resist and lunged forward, undoing his own breeches. He saw Kahn swallow, hard, they had never gone this far, kissing and rubbing, sure, but this was different, this was an act that couldn't be forgotten. He placed light, loving kisses on Kahn's gorgeous, soft skin, his hands were the only part of him that was rough, but being a blacksmiths son would do that. They sighed each other's name as he entered his best friend and lover, part of his heart clenched at that word, but there was no way something that felt so right, could be wrong. Something that felt this good, surely wasn't damned. He fit so perfectly into Kahn, there couldn't be anything God saw wrong with this, this was real and perfect, and beautiful.

"I love you, Ben," Kahn whispered as they came merely one second apart. If Benjamin was being honest, he didn't want to answer, he wanted to tell Kahn that it was a mistake, but the thing was, he didn't believe it.

"I love you, too," he muttered, his fingers running through Kahn's sweaty locks.

"Benjamin?" a voice came from outside the barn and both boys paled several shades. Kahn jerked his pants up as Ben did the same, but it was too late, Rachel had come in too soon, and realized what they were doing and released a cry of horror. Kahn ran forward,

"Please, Rachel, please don't tell anyone." He grabbed at her wrists, trying to get her to listen but she jerked away.

"Devils!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and she had a set of lungs and a singing voice that rivaled Kahn's, but did not surpass him. Kahn turned back to Benjamin who pulled him into a hug, burying his face into Kahn's neck.

"I still love you," Benjamin told him, kissing the skin beneath his lips.

"I will love you for all of time," Kahn replied. "And if we get another chance, if we are not damned to hell, I will find you again, if it takes 1 million lifetimes I will find you again!" That was all the blue eyed boy got out before they were ripped apart with such force that it hurt physically almost as much it did emotionally.

"What do you think, men?" David Karofsky, who was their age, yelled, "Shall we hang them or shall we burn them, let them get used to hell fire?" Kahn lunged trying desperately to get back to Benjamin who tried just as hard to reach out. Their captors however wrenched them back, "Devils!" David growled, "Let's burn them, so that the evil in them burns too."

"Bastard!" Kahn hissed angrily at David, now trying to be freed so that he could punch David in the face.

"You are the one without the mother," David replied cruelly, everyone knew Kahn's mother had died from influenza, when he was 7 years old. Kahn spat violently at David, earning a backhand that caused Benjamin to flinch. David walked calmly up to Benjamin who looked back him to see a panted Kahn looking back. "Benjamin, I'll make you a deal." Benjamin looked up at David, "Renounce your wicked ways, tell us all, this demon seduced you and you can free." Benjamin looked at Kahn who looked hurt and fearful, it would be a lie to renounce his love for Kahn, and he didn't want to add another sin to the list.

"I am as much a devil as he is, he did not seduce me, I went willingly." Kahn nearly smiled, but all that mattered to Benjamin was the pure love in Kahn's eyes.

"Very well, you shall burn with him tomorrow as well as for eternity." David yelled angrily. That night they had been put in separate cells, but they were right next to each other, and if they both reach out of the bars on the door and Benjamin reached to the right and Kahn reached to the right, they could touch.

"I don't regret it, you know," Benjamin reported, wishing he could see Kahn and not just touch his hand.

"Good, neither do I," Kahn replied, Benjamin could hear the heaviness of his voice. "And I meant what I said; I will never stop looking for you." Benjamin was 17 years old and he was going to die tomorrow, but he couldn't think of a better reason.

_I don't know if this is what it was like if you were gay in the 1600's I don't anyone who was around then…so again don't get mad at me for going really really deep into fictionland. That's why it's FICTION. But other than that, what did you think? They won't always die at the end by the way…maybe a couple more times, but…. Please review…please!_


	2. Victorian

_This is victorian age…. I hope you enjoy it, I am realizing that the majority of these chapters are going to be extremely angsty, so :( Also Bernard in this story = Burt, though you all would have figured that out. I don't own anyone in this story either._

Kristopher sighed, heavily,

"No, Kristopher, I know Byron is your friend, but there is a buzzing about what you two do behind closed doors." His father scolded, part angry, part uncomfortable, Kristopher rolled his eyes.

"Let them think whatever they want to, Father, why should that keep me from visiting my best friend."

"Because I happen to agree with them," Bernard revealed, Kristopher looked at him surprised and annoyed.

"Oh really? Well I will have you know, Father, that Byron is one of the most respectable gentlemen in the city, with several female suitors, so please tell me why you would agree with a bunch of stuffy old bats who have nothing better to do with their time than to meddle in other people's business!" Kristopher nearly flinched as his father raised his hand threatening, but he knew his father wouldn't touch him that way, not even when he was child.

"Do not disrespect me, Kristopher!" Bernard warned, but he could see the confusion and hurt in his son's eyes. He sighed heavily, he knew his son was different, he always had been. Of course as he grew up he quickly realized that who he really was, wasn't acceptable, he needed to pretend to be like everyone else. And he did, and he did it well, until he was 14 and met Byron, who was different in the same way that Kristopher was. Bernard saw it in the way Byron keep his hand on Kristopher's arm just a moment too long, how he smiled at his son just a little too brightly, how he tended to look past his 'female suitors' to stare at Kristopher, who more often than not, was staring back. "This isn't easy to deal with, please, Kristopher, just…" Bernard couldn't believe he was about to ask his son to end the friendship/relationship with a person he truly loved, and who loved him back. "Don't make it as obvious, son, please, I don't want you to get hurt, people can be cruel. I think it would be best if you stopped visiting each other."

"Father…" Bernard knew he son was about to fight, but then he just sighed, "I don't think there is anything wrong with us, but if it will help you sleep at night," Bernard winced as his son turned away. Kristopher was willing to give up the person he loved, for Bernard. "I will consider it," He was about to tell Kristopher to forget the whole thing, but he was already out the door.

It was a week later and after getting watching another man get hanged for his "crime" of homosexuality, Kristopher decided it was time to put a stop to the danger he was putting himself and Byron in. Particularly if there was a rumor going around. The witch trials had happened by such rumors.

Kristopher had never dreaded going to see Byron in his life. He loved Byron, and Bryon loved him. Maybe it wasn't moral or proper and maybe they were damned, but it was love, it was something that was rare and practically unheard of. He could just tell Byron they would have to cut back on their 'social visits' but that would be harder than just never seeing him again. Byron wasn't someone you could just have every once in a while, he was like a drink, he was addictive and wonderful.

He knocked on the door and Byron answered, beaming, but first they bowed politely to deter any prying eyes, but as soon as the door shut behind him, Byron had crashed their lips together. Instantly Kristopher responded, his hands gripping the curly dark hair at the base of Byron's neck. But then he remembered his mind,

"No!" he yelped, knowing every single touch and kiss and look would make it harder to end. Byron looked surprised and hurt, Kristopher had never denied his kisses.

"Kristopher?" Byron asked softly, Kristopher shook his head,

"We can't do this anymore, not only is it illegal, I saw George get hanged yesterday, what if it had been you he'd been caught with? Or me?" George was a friend of theirs, one that Byron had gotten 'close' to.

"Did the other man get hanged too?" Byron asked in a tight, almost angry, voice.

"No! But only because he claimed George put a spell on him and made him 'commit the acts'. And you are far too honorable and noble for that kind of cowardice. And I cannot watch you die." Kristopher admitted, forcing the tears and pain back.

"We- I-" Byron stuttered, Kristopher was his, his beautiful, perfect, lover. Yes it was secret and yes it was often rushed and fearful, but it was love, pure and untainted, why couldn't that be enough.

"It's all right Byron, we'll see each other at social gatherings… Nicole is a truly beautiful woman and will make a fine wife." Kristopher's heart broke further at the thoughts of Byron with a girl or anyone, really, that wasn't him. He started out the door, deciding a clean break would be simplest. But a hand grabbed his arms and his resistance practically vanished.

"Why does it have to be this way?" Byron asked sadly, his fingers brushing the stubble on Kristopher's cheek. "Couldn't we fight it?"

"No, because we both know life is unfair and cruel. And lovers are kept secret for a reason. Please, don't make this harder than it is, let me go." Kristopher begged, his voice breaking.

"I will always love you, no matter what," Byron swore. "Maybe in the next life, we shall be together and we won't have to hide." Kristopher looked up, heartbreak on his face,

"One can only dream." He knew it was probably a mistake, that it would only hurt more, but he leaned forward and kissed the man he loved, the so familiar taste, dancing on his lips. They both flinched, this would probably the last kiss they shared, the last time they could truly be themselves, the last time they'd really be alive. "I love you," Kristopher breathed softly, as though if he said it too loudly the police would burst into the room and kill them both.

"Forever and always," Byron replied, watching with his own broken heart as Kristopher walked away from his house and out of his life.

It would be 10 years before they saw each other again, at a festival, both now with wives and children. It was across the path that they met eyes and for a moment their faces fell and the old wounds split back open, but they nodded cordially, and for a second it hurt to breathe.

"Who is that man, father?" Kristopher's daughter, whom he loved with all his heart asked him sweetly.

"He is just an old friend," he admitted, looking at his wife, who raised a knowing eyebrow. Bethany knew about him, because she was like him, with women. But they had both put aside that part of themselves and contented in each other. Bethany took his hand, kissing it softly, not as a wife would to show affection to her husband, but as a friend would to help soothe pain of a broken heart. Kristopher smiled at her, weakly, he would be forever grateful for this woman, he did not love her as he had love Byron, but she was possible the only woman in the world that would be understanding. Kristopher once again met eyes with Byron who sighed and nodded a goodbye.

They would never again see each other in that lifetime.

_Hate the way I ended that. Please forgive me… And review! Oh and Bethany is Brittany. I may be alone in this but I LOVE Brittany and Kurt together, not as much as I like Klaine, but if Kurt has a wife/girlfriend in any of these stories, just picture Brittany. Nicole is just a name…she's not based on anyone. Please review this chapter. Love all my readers. And if you guys have a time in history you want me to write, let me know and I'll see what I can do. :D_


	3. Nazi Germany

_Ok wow um this was WAY longer than I intended it to be! Here's the rundown, this is set in Nazi Germany, Blaine/Bren is a Oberst, which is the German equivalent of a Colonel. I am not entirely sure that is what the title was for the SS, but I did the best I could. Kurt/Kass, is a German but because he's gay he is taken, I mention pretty terrible things that are done to him, in the beginning and particularly in the end, though none of it is really graphic. The name Karofsky will remain the same in all the chapters. Chief Himmler was actually the chief of the Gestapo, though whether he would directly have a hand in what happens to people I'm not sure. Ok also, Margaret=Mercedes. And the reason I chose Kass and Bren for their names in this chapter is that Kass means blackbird(I mean COME ON!) and Bren means Flame, which I liked so…. I don't own anyone in this story you recognize. Hope you enjoy! _

It wasn't as if Bren enjoyed doing this, on the contrary, every time he filled out a piece of paperwork he felt more like a traitor and like a piece of scum.

"I hate you all!" A voice growled, the voice was high but vicious, but Bren could hear the weakness. Every voice that didn't belong to a person in uniform, was weak these days. Either they were beaten down psychically or psychologically, Bren got the feeling this person's weakness came from psychical torment rather than psychological, due to the anger and fierceness in his tone.

"Oberst, we brought you a present," an annoying familiar voice greeted. Bren turned around in time to see them throw a bleeding, bruised, clearly raped, swollen mouthed boy who couldn't be a single day older than himself, to the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore, going towards him, compassionately. He stopped short when the boy opened his eyes, beautiful ocean colored eyes, with a fire burning strongly in them.

"No, actually, Kass Schwarz," Bren almost smirked at Kass's bravery and wit, but the Karofsky kicked Kass mercilessly in the stomach. Kass cried out and Bren knew Karofsky had just kicked another injury as Kass panted, clutching his side.

"Show some respect to Oberst Krause, you disgusting piece of shit," Karofsky hissed.

"My deepest apologizes," Kass spit, "I guess falling at his feet isn't good enough." Karofsky scowled, but looked up at Bren,

"Because the jew didn't work out, we got you a pink triangle, he's got a talented mouth too, Sir," another soldier laughed harshly, Weber was his name, and Bren could have punched him. "We were just going to let him blow us off, but he bit Wilson, so we had to punish him," Kass scoffed,

"Don't flatter yourselves, that broomstick was smaller than most cocks that I've had in me," Wilson went to kick him again but Bren held up his hands,

"That is quite enough of that," Bren growled, and they backed down, though they all frowned. "Margaret," he called, his housemaid entered, gasping in horror at the man on the floor. She looked at Bren shocked,

"Take him to my bedroom; I'll be there in a minute, please start cleaning him up." She nodded lightly approaching the man, hesitantly, not wanting to make him more nervous. Bren noticed the soldiers looking at her hungrily, not hiding their lust, he was about to reprimand them but Kass beat him to it.

"Stop looking at her like that! She's far too pretty for any of you anyway," he sneered. Karofsky started forward him again, but Bren spoke up again,

"Thank you, Margaret," he said meaningfully, meeting Kass's eyes, who's fire flickered gratefully for moment, before looking up at Margaret, smiling softly at her and she nodded in thanks before helping him up, he moaned softly.

"Schwarz, if I ever get my hands on you, you will rue the day you were born," Karofsky threatened.

"You probably couldn't get fat hands around my neck, so I think I'm safe," Bren couldn't deny that he liked this man, Karofsky lunged,

"That is enough!" Bren snapped, blocking Margaret and Kass from the soldiers. He waiting, glaring at them until he heard the door shut. "Making men carry rocks is one thing, torturing them is another!" he yelled, "And you raped him with a BROOM?"

"It's not rape, Oberst, he's a queer," Max replied cruelly and Bren squared his chest intimidatingly.

"Speak that way again and I'll have _you_ carrying rocks," they all shrunk back at the words. "Get out of my home, and the next time I hear of any of you doing something like this, you will all be stripped of your title, that is a promise."

Once they left Bren went to his bedroom, wincing when he heard Kass gasp in pain.

"They should be in ones being gassed." Margaret said angrily, "Treating a person like this is criminal!" Kass chuckled sadly,

"No, being queer is criminal to them, not torturing a queer." Bren closed his eyes, trying to not vomit at the truth coming out of the man's mouth. "But you know, for a group of so many people against queers, I have sucked more cock since I've been here, then I did at home."

"Oh there are plenty of them in the Nazi party, they just get murdered if they are open about it." Margaret revealed.

"Is that Krause's story? Is that why I'm here, to be his sex toy?" Kass's tone went from being amiable to being cold and angry, though Bren didn't blame him at all.

"No! Not at all, Krause is a good man, he does what he can to free as many people as he can, though that's just between you and me, if he got caught, he'd be killed." Bren adored Margaret,

"Good riddance," Kass scoffed.

"Kass!" Margaret cried offended,

"I have been in a camp for two years, every man who wears that damn uniform is the same, they are all cruel, hateful men who take advantage of being 'just another face'. The guards are just as bad as the officers. So forgive me for not looking past the uniform, but anyone wearing one, I hate, no ifs, ands, or buts." Kass replied bitterly.

"I can understand that, but Oberst Krause could have let those bastards beat you up some more, but he didn't, that should mean something." Margaret stuck up for him, even though Bren knew that Kass was probably right.

"It means he just wasn't bored enough to watch them beat the shit out of me. Oh believe me, I've been beaten and raped with sticks just because they were bored, they are all the same Margaret, don't let them fool you." Bren's heart broke for the treatment this man had been subjected to, it was clear he didn't trust anyone and it was unfortunately completely justified.

"Give him a chance, please, before you go and let hate completely destroy your soul," Margaret pleaded. Kass said nothing and Bren opened the door. Both looked up at him, Kass was lying on his stomach, naked, though his buttocks was covered with a sheet. He was covered with bruises, several in various stages of healing.

"Damn," he muttered, looking at the wounds, wondering if Margaret had even begun to treat his rape wounds.

"Sir, he's not going to be able to do many chores for a while, the tearing is pretty extensive." Margaret had been a nurse before the war broke out, it was how she'd gotten out of the concentration camp, Bren had gotten ill and she'd come to help him, he'd wanted her to stay.

"I can do chores," Kass bit, "It's not like I've never been raped and beaten before." Bren wanted to cry at the casualness of the statement, why had they treated him so badly, he knew they didn't treat all pink triangles like this. Then again, Kass had a sharp tongue on him and Bren had the feeling he didn't lower his flamboyancy one bit for them.

"I would rather wait until you're healed; having an injured servant does me no good." Bren replied,

"Oh is that what you plan on calling me, your 'servant'? Why not just call me by my actual title, fuck toy." Part of Bren wanted to scold him, but he knew the harshness and anger came from being treated like dirt, he had to cling to something to survive.

"No, I read your papers, and it said that you were a cook," Bren stated and he swore he saw Kass's eyes light up for a moment, before going back to anger, blazing orbs.

"That was before the war, how does that help me now?" Kass asked, he was fishing, Bren knew, fishing for some kind of hope to cling to.

"Margaret here can't boil an egg,"

"Hey!" Margaret cried indignantly and for the first time a hint of a smile appeared on Kass's face and Bren's stomach flip-flopped. _Shit_.

"Well you can't, and neither can I for that matter, so I was hoping if you were willing that you would cook for me." There it was again, in those fierce eyes, a light of hope and maybe happiness, Bren couldn't deny that it made his heart beat faster and his stomach flutter.

"I-" Kass paused, wondering if this was too good to be true, it probably was, but he couldn't bring himself to deny it, even if it wouldn't last. "Thank you, Sir," he nodded, smiling just enough to see only if you really looked. Bren grinned,

"Good! Maybe I can have bread that isn't burned for once," he teased Margaret who threw a wadded up cloth at him, playfully.

"At least I tried, which is more than I can say for you, Mr. I thought you added the yeast after you baked it." Then suddenly they were both silenced by a laugh, a real laugh, a beautiful laugh. Kass realized what he had just done and gasped quietly, his laugh ending instantly, fear now the most obvious emotion in his eyes.

"I can't believe it," Margaret breathed. Kass and Bren looked at her, "He can smile!" Bren chuckled and Kass smiled weakly, his bruised cheek flexing. "Come on, let's get some ice for that pretty face of yours." It was pretty wasn't it? Bren found himself thinking and he quickly scolded himself, not only could he not put Kass in that kind of danger, it would also get himself killed, and he'd be no used to anyone dead.

But that was easier said than done, and as the weeks went on and the beautiful, blue eyed, chestnut haired man relaxed and grew to trust and love Margaret and maybe trust Bren a little too, he smiled more, he laughed some too, and Bren didn't think he'd ever went weak at the knees for anything like he had Kass's laugh. He knew he shouldn't stare at Kass like he did, knew his hand didn't really have to brush up against his when Kass placed his food in front of him. And he knew he shouldn't watch him walk away, wishing he could touch those hips. But he did, and there was really nothing he could do about it, and he certainly wouldn't act on it… _right?_

Kass could have kicked himself, what if Oberst Krause had seen him, what if he had caught him watching him write, he would be killed; or worse, sent back to the camp. Krause knew he was homosexual, but that didn't mean he wanted to be gawked at. But Kass had seen Oberst Krause without his hair slicked back, a chaotic mess of curls that Kass dreamed of running his fingers through. _No, Kass, no!_ He warned himself_, he is one of them and he'll betray you the moment it is convenient to him, don't let his soft, hazel eyes and gentle smile fool you. He's just as cruel and calculating as the rest of the bastards in uniform._ Kass nodded firmly, thankful Oberst Krause and Margaret weren't around to see his insanity. Sighing softly, glad that he for the first time he in a while it didn't hurt to breathe, or walk.

"Kass," a voice said, causing him to flinch and jump, spinning around, looking for who was after him. Bren stood, his hands thrown up in surrender, "Take it easy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I was just wondering if you could come help me with something." Bren asked, Kass paused a moment before following him into the dining room. The table was set with a placing with a red cloth over a navy blue cloth.

"Those colors are terrible together," Kass claimed, placing his hand over his mouth when he realized what he'd said, but Bren smiled.

"It's like you read my mind, that's exactly what I needed to know. Think you could help me pick out good colors?" Kass smiled softly and glanced over at the other folded clothes Bren had thrown in the corner.

"What's it for?" he asked, ripping the hideous color combination from the table.

"A dinner with the General Major and Generalleutnant," Kass raised his eyebrows.

"Fancy," he said looking down at the clothes, pulling up the cream and navy blue. "These will look much better," he stated, putting them on the table, wondering if Bren could see the blush on his face when Bren began to help him.

"So tell me, you've been working here for nearly 8 weeks and I don't really know anything about you," Bren claimed, evening out the table cloth.

"Not much to tell, I used to live a happy, free life, and now I am here, playing maid to an Oberst," Kass bit, regretting it, not because of fear of retribution, but it made him sound ungrateful and miserable, neither of which were true. "I didn't mean it like that," but Bren shook his head,

"You are right, so tell me, what was your life like when you were free and happy?" Kass paused, looking Bren up and down for ulterior motive, finding none he continued,

"Well I lived in Allendorg, with my father, my mother died when I was young, I started cooking after she died, loved it. When I was 16 I met my first lover, Noah, he broke my heart and then when I was 21, I met Pierre, fell madly in love, and then the war broke out." The way Kass had broken off so quickly and was now fiddling with the table cloth, even though it was perfect, alerted Bren to something more.

"Pierre was French?" Bren asked, Kass looked up at him,

"Do you know any German men named Pierre?" Bren nodded in defeat,

"Good point, ok so… where is your father?" Bren wondered if he was over stepping his bounds, but he knew Kass would stop if he didn't want to go further.

"Switzerland I hope, he left right when the Fuhrer started talking about the Ayrian race," Kass revealed. "Plus I thought it would be safer, considering," he left it hanging, but Bren was able to finish it. Considering Kass was homosexual, there was a chance his father would be in danger just by knowing him.

"Why didn't you go with him?" Bren asked, sitting at the head of the table.

"I was planning on it, but I wasn't going to leave Pierre, so I went to France and got him, we were 3 days away from Switzerland when they caught us. Brought us to Dachau, five days later, Pierre was dead and I wished I was too."

"Five days?" Bren asked, wishing he hadn't when Kass met his eyes, they were full of pain and hurt.

"Yes, they beat him to death, the other prisoners, not the guards." Kass revealed, "Water?" he asked motioning to the pitcher of water, Bren declined, motioning for him to sit down. Kass hesitated but obeyed, "But I think it was probably better that way, Pierre wouldn't have survived as much as I have, it would have broken him." Kass muttered and Bren wasn't completely sure Kass was still speaking to him. "What about you? What's your pre-war story?" Bren smiled shyly, not expecting the tables to be turned.

"Much of the same as it is now really, although just so you know, I did not want Hitler in power. But I was already in the military, my grandfather and father served, I am just continuing the family tradition. Of course I wasn't such a coward and traitor, but…" Kass didn't say anything, but from the confused look on his face, Bren got the clue he was to continue. "I am betraying my country by helping the British and Americans know when the best time to strike is. I'm a coward for not coming forward as what I really am, and letting friends die instead." Kass hesitated, not wanting to speak but wanting desperately to know what 'he was'. "I'd be in Dachau with you," Bren revealed, "With that pink triangle on my shirt." Kass's eyes widened and Bren would have sworn he saw joy in Kass's eyes, but pushed it down as wishful thinking. "I think they all suspect anyway, that's why I rarely go out, I was more open before the war, and some of them think they know, but they have no proof, and you can't kill an Oberst without proof." Kass nodded, his pink lips twisting into a soft smirk and Bren couldn't stop the words that came out of his mouth, "I'm glad I didn't meet you before the war, I'd be dead already if I had." Kass looked up at him, his eyes peering through his long, dark eyelashes, "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you."

Neither of them particularly remembered who went forward first, but soon it really didn't matter as their lips waltzed and their tongues fought. Their hands searched to find any and all skin that it could, Bren ended up pulling Kass's shirt up so that it was bunched up on his shoulders, his fingers gripping and scratching at the youthful, soft skin. Kass's fingers finally got to swim in the curls he'd dreamed about, they weren't heavily gelled that day, just enough to keep them under control. Bren felt Kass smile into the kiss, which caused Bren to pull him closer, humming softly. It had been years since Bren had kissed a man, and to have the first man that he did kiss after his drought, be Kass, Bren was sure he would never want or need to kiss another person ever again. It was extraordinary that Kass, who had been through hell, tasted so good, like cinnamon. It was better than he had imagined, it was warm, and passionate, and perfect.

Six months passed and they were as blissful as two men in a secret relationship could be. Margaret knew, she would just smile at them when she caught them looking at each other, before they quickly looked away blushing. One night their life together was ended. Kass giggled, softly as Bren tickled his hip bone with his lips, placing softly, opened mouth kisses on the bone that had once had protruded horribly, to now a healthy, lean, beautiful weight. Suddenly a knock came at the door and both men, leaped to their feet, Bren grabbing desperately for his shirt, jerking on his pants and suspenders, and shoes when he heard Margaret answer the door.

"Chief Himmler," she greeted, her voice a bit high in surprise and probably fear, but it was Bren that cursed, he wasn't anywhere near dressed appropriately for the chief of the Gestapo. "Lieutenant Karofsky," this time it was Kass that paled, but he continued to get ready before running out the bedroom door towards the kitchen.

"Is your master at home?" Himmler asked Margaret, using a voice that one would use to speak to a child.

"Yes, Sir, I'll call him for you, if you'll come inside and make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back." Margaret ran into the room just as he opened the door,

"What I am supposed to do?" she squeaked.

"Nothing," he claimed, "Unless I call you, stay away from them." She nodded and went back into the kitchen, surprised to not find Kass. Though she wasn't nearly as surprised as Bren when he walked into his living room to find, Kass serving Karofsky and Himmler brandy as though the one man that would slaughter them both if he found out, wasn't in the room.

"Can I get you anything else sirs?" Kass said softly, and subordinately, which didn't please Bren in the least, though Karofsky smug smirk made him want to kill the Lieutenant.

"I see you learned your place queer," Kass didn't react to the slur, instead turned to Bren,

"Can I get you anything, Oberst?" he asked and Bren felt nauseated. _Yes I would like my lover back, please_.

"No, thank you Kass," he claimed. As Kass walked by they met eyes, though neither Karofsky nor Himmler would have noticed. He saluted respectfully, as they did the same back, though Bren only really relaxed when Kass was out of Karofsky's sight. "What do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight Chief Himmler?" he asked, sitting opposite Himmler.

"I have been hearing some unpleasant rumors about you, and that pink triangle pet of yours." If Bren hadn't been so fearful of the rumors, he would have been angered at Kass being called his pet.

"Is that so?" he answered casually. "And what rumors might that be?" his heart clenched at the thought.

"That before the war you participated in homosexual exploits and now that, that thing is around, you have once again succumbed to that vile, _illegal_ act." Himmler said as though discussing the weather.

"With all due respect, some people have wild imaginations, Sir," Bren was relieved he hadn't accepted drink, otherwise he'd give himself away by downing whatever he'd had.

"Lieutenant, go and get the triangle," Himmler commanded and Bren's heart sunk, wishing he could speak up, but knowing it would put Kass and himself in more danger. But then his mind shot to the marks he'd left on Kass's skin the night before and he knew they were both done for. He had sentenced this beautiful man to death, by falling in love with him and kissing him, and making love to him, Kass would be murdered. As would he, but he wasn't as concerned about that. Kass cried out in pain as he was shoved to the floor and kicked viciously by Karofsky,

"Was that really necessary?" Bren asked indifferently, though he fought every single fiber in his body to not go over and help him.

"Take your shirt off, Queer," Himmler commanded and Kass paled slightly, looking up to the two men, staying away from Bren until the final moment. Karofsky, however got tired of waiting and jerked Kass up and tore his shirt off of him, revealing his several love marks. "Who gave those to you?" Karofsky threw him back on to the floor, Kass looked up at them, not speaking, but suddenly Karofsky kicked him hard in the ribs, they all heard the crack, even over Kass's cry.

"Answer him!" he demanded. Kass panted, trying to ride out the pain before whispering weakly.

"A man," he inhaled, flinching in pain, "At the camp," Bren stared at him.

"That's not possible, you have been here for months," Karofsky growled. Kass shook his head,

"I- I-" he stuttered, looking up fearfully, though Bren saw past the act and into the lie. "I'm so sorry Oberst, but I have been sneaking out at night," Bren's eyes widened, thankfully the other men took it as that he didn't know what Kass was doing, not the shock of the lie.

"LIAR!" Karofsky yelled. "There is no way you'd be able to get into the camp, undetected." Karofsky kicked him again and he screamed as the hit was directed at his already broken ribs.

"It's true!" he panted, "I dug a hole, under the fence, 19 paces from the 5th pole, if you go look, you'll find it." Kass flinched at the pain, and Bren just stared some more. Had Kass always had this lie in mind, or was this just something he thought of on the spot, and if he had, how the hell was he going to explain it when there was no hole.

"We will be checking that," Himmler claimed, "Now, who is the other queer?" Kass paused before looking up at them,

"You have me, isn't that good enough?" Himmler shook his head, scowling coldly,

"Not when we have the opportunity to kill two queers instead of one." Bren watched as Kass's eyes grew so determined and stoic that he was almost willing to believe his lies.

"You can do whatever you want, I won't tell you who he is," he stated firmly, bracing himself for the pain he knew would come. Sure enough, a moment later, Karofsky grabbed his arm and jerked it back severely and a loud snap echoed in the room, followed shortly by Kass's scream of agony. Bren stepped forward for a moment, forgetting himself before pulling back and standing stark still in place. But Himmler noticed anyway and looked up at him, raising his eyebrows interestedly, but he said nothing, turning back to Kass, whose eyes were glassy with pain, his breaths coming out shallow and shaky.

"Don't give up already, we're just getting started," Karofsky bit hatefully and Bren felt as though he was going to vomit, he amazed himself by holding it.

"Come Lieutenant, let's take the queer to headquarters, see if we can't loosen his tongue a bit," Kass whimpered as Karofsky pulled him by twisting his arms behind his back roughly and shoved him forward. Kass stumble but stayed on his feet, which was probably a miracle considering the pain, but they both knew this was mild compared to what they had in store.

"Stop!" Bren cried, not taking his eyes off Kass who flinched violently and shook his head subtly, neither of the other men noticed. Bren knew this was it, he was going to die, but he was done being a coward, done pretending to be any other Nazi soldier, he was guilty of the same "crime" as Kass and he wouldn't let Kass die alone for Bren's spinelessness.

"Yes, Oberst?" Himmler asked, a knowing tone to his voice. Bren stared at Kass whose eyes were pleading, but it was too late, and they all knew it.

"He lied, he hasn't been sneaking away at night, the only place he's been going at night is into my bed." Kass let out a soft sob, which turned into a yell when Karofsky yanked his dislocated shoulder.

"Thank you Oberst," he nodded and suddenly two other men were in the room and one grabbed Bren, who didn't put up a fight, unlike Kass who, despite being hurt, struggled desperately to get to Bren. Karofsky kicked his feet out from under him, not releasing his arms which jerked Kass's arms so severely that Bren swore the other shoulder snapped out of place, but he couldn't be sure, he hadn't been able to hear over Kass's wail. Then the other man, who had just entered, came back, holding Margaret, who was putting up a fruitless fight.

"No!" Bren yelled, "She had nothing to do with this, she is completely innocent. She didn't even know!" He begged, Margaret looked at him fearfully, but then saw Kass who had tear trails on his cheeks. It was then that she realized that had been found out and she paled, looking at Himmler,

"She is guilty by association and will be sent back to the camp." Bren flinched,

"I'm sorry," he said to her, she nodded and smiled weakly, heartbroken at what she knew would become of the men. She was taken away in a separate car and Kass and Bren were shoved ruthlessly into another, their hands were now cuffed and Kass leaned against the window, panting roughly.

"Why in God's name did you do that?" he hissed angrily. Bren was slightly taken aback but knew that Kass had planned well to insure nothing happened to Bren.

"I was through being a coward; I love you, and couldn't just watch them lead you away." Kass flinched when Karofsky snapped at them,

"Shut up, queers!" Bren looked for the fire in Kass's eyes and saw more of a smoldering ember, barely glowing and about to go out. Was it possible that now that Bren was caught, Kass had nothing to fight for?

"Kass?" Bren whispered so that even Kass could hardly hear him. But he turned his head slowly to his lover, flinching at the movement that caused his shoulder's agony. "Don't give up, I won't stop fighting, until you do," Bren promised, there was a spark, followed by a slight nod.

The car stopped 6 minutes later in front of a plain cement building, but Bren knew what it was for.

"What?" Bren gasped, "You know who it is! Why are we-?" Karofsky backhanded him and Himmler stepped out of the car, straitening his jacket.

"For the hell of it." He replied, smirked evilly and Bren suddenly had the urge to do anything and everything in his power to protect Kass. He tried to move in front of him, trying to guard his lover from the hell that was about to befall them, but Himmler wretched him back and shoved him towards the door. They were thrown in the same small, 5x5 cell, which still had blood and vomit stains on the floor. The door slammed and they left them alone, both still handcuffed, but Bren wondered for how long.

"They're still going to torture us?" Kass asked, trying to remain as still as possible for his wounded shoulders.

"Yes, did he dislocate both of your shoulders?" Bren asked, seeing that one was already swollen,

"No, just the one. Are they going to torture us to death, or just until they are satisfied?"

"I don't really know, I've never done paperwork on these prisoners." Suddenly the door was opened and Bren positioned himself, uselessly in front of Kass, Himmler chuckled cruelly.

"I have a better idea, instead of one at a time, why don't we let the other watch," both men paled and this time it was Kass that spoke.

"Please, no, please. Just kill him." Kass begged, Himmler, Bren, Karofsky and the two other soldiers that had joined them all looked at him surprised. "Kill him, I'll watch, then you can do whatever you want to me, please. Please!" Kass may as well have been on his knees pleading.

"Kass," Bren murmured, unsure whether to be more in love with this man or whether he was doing it to protect his own mind, though that thought quickly left when he realized Kass was stronger than himself, and he knew that.

"How honorable. We'll take that into account." Himmler said, smirking, then nodding to the soldiers, "Take them." Kass cried out in protest once again but then the cry became one of pain as the soldier kicked his knee mercilessly, laughing as he fell. Bren went forward but barely got a foot before he was yanked back. They took the men to a room with a table and several chains, some coming from the ceiling with a pole behind them and other on the wall. There was also a type of machine that had wires connected and Bren had the feeling it was a shocking device. They were going to die, in anguish, while they watched the other, able to do nothing but grieve for their lover.

"String him up, and start on that one," Himmler pointed to Kass then to Bren. Kass cried out softly as they pushed him to one of the chains hanging from the ceiling, but it was then that the chains weren't attached to the ceiling, but to the pole. They pulled Kass's arms back and one of the soldier lifted him off the ground and the other hooked shackles onto his wrist and the other soldier let him go and every bit of Kass's weight went on his arms and shoulders and he screamed.

Bren, after stripping him naked, was then attached to the chains on the wall, his back exposed and when he saw the cat o nine's he knew exactly why. Kass's screams had turned into a moan and he opened his eyes, looking up at the scene before him.

"No," he pleaded softly, "Please no." Bren looked up at him and could see the sorrow in his eyes.

"I love you, Kass," Bren claimed as the whip was brought down viciously onto his exposed back, a groan was all Bren released….the first 3 strikes, but soon as flesh was ripped away from bone, screams and howls were released instead. Kass was sobbing and pleading for them to stop, claiming he would do anything they wanted if they would only stop. Eventually they did stop, but only after Bren was too weak and in too pain to so much as lift his head, he could only just open his eyes. Kass's own head was hanging limp on his shoulder, yelping as the soldier with the whip took a swing at him and caught him in the side, slicing his hip into shreds. Then they released Kass's arms, with no warning and no way to brace himself, he fell on his face, yelling at the torment his body was enduring. He took a chance that he knew was pointless, to try to get over to Bren, he had barely dragged himself two inches when a foot came down heavily on his wrists. Kass felt as though having his arms completely ripped off would hurt less than what they were doing to it now.

"Bren," he moaned, Bren looked up at him feebly. "I love you too." And then for just a moment it was worth it. A soldier pulled Kass to his feet, holding him there since Kass had lost the ability to stand on his own. Kass's arms were untied and they fell to his side, pulling another groan of pain and for a moment Bren thought he was going to pass out. Instead he just hung his head and waited for what was to befall him next. They practically threw him on the table, he made no sound of pain and Bren wondered if the pain had gone past screams and yells.

"You shouldn't have lied to us, queer," Karofsky claimed.

"If I hadn't we'd still be here, so at least I tried," Kass replied, barely able to drawn breath. Bren was still amazed at Kass's strength and ability to make others feel an inch tall, if he chose.

"Trying gets you nowhere when you're diseased," Karofsky spit, grabbing Kass's arms and slamming it against the table, Kass flinched, but said nothing. Suddenly they strapped him down, and he lacked the capability to fight them, so he just let them do it, finding Bren's eyes. Bren looked back sadly, his eyes half closed.

"Don't stop fighting," Kass mouthed, throwing his head back and shrieking in pain when Karofsky slammed his fist down on Kass's shoulder.

"You are an evil, hateful bastard," Bren growled at Karofsky as his lover attempted to stop groaning and writhing in agony.

"I've just begun." Karofsky said calmly and Bren suddenly was 100 times more frightened. That hadn't been a threat, but a promise.

Nearly an hour passed and Kass was no longer screaming, was no longer moaning, or even whimpering. He just stared at the wall as the electric pulses damaged his body over and over. For a moment he thought Kass was dead, but then his eyes flickered over to Bren, and Bren wished that he _was _dead. There was no fire in those lifeless gray eyes, they hadn't killed his body yet, but they had killed his spirit. Bren shook his head weakly, begging for this to all be a horrible dream and for them to wake up safe in his bed, curled next to each other. Praying for those eyes to open and blaze with love and life, to laugh when he laughed, to shine when he grinned, to sparkle when they kissed. But they just stared, not really finding Bren, just seeing him.

"That should be sufficient today, Lieutenant, we'll continue this lesson tomorrow." One of the guards freed and picked up Kass and he made no sound, his face remained blank and emotionless. Another grabbed him and jerked him up, stretching and tearing his mutilated back, he yelped but walked as they commanded, not taking his eyes off of Kass. They threw them back into the cell, Kass laid their limply as Bren stumbled when shoved in. The door slammed shut behind him, as he crawled over to Kass, he was still weak from blood loss, he rolled Kass over gently. His breathing was shallow and broken, but it appeared that he was once again fighting.

"Couldn't die and let them—win," he choked out in hardly a whisper. "—die in your arms, safe—with you," Kass explained, his breathing becoming more labored.

"No, darling, you can't leave me," Bren begged, positioning his body so that he was lying next to Kass, their foreheads touching. "Please, don't leave me here." Kass looked at him, and Bren's heart skipped a beat as those eyes flashed with love.

"I would never leave you, my love, I shall wait until you follow," he promised but Bren quickly realized that Kass meant spiritually, he would wait, as his breathing quickened and his eyes shut, and then…he was gone. Bren let out a sob of pain as he buried his face in Kass's neck, kissing the flesh there.

"I love you," he sobbed, pulling the body of his love as close as he could, his heart aching in his chest.

When they were found the next morning, every soldier, guard and even Himmler was baffled; Bren's wounds were not bad enough to kill him. Kass they understood, but Bren hadn't endured anywhere need the other's amount of torture, he should have been fine. But Oberst Bren Krause was dead, clinging to his also dead lover, both freed in death. Kass was freed from camps and hate, Bren was freed from his own prison of fear and cowardice. Their bodies were unceremoniously dumped into a large grave, containing dozens of other men, and despite the fact that the guard had just tossed them in wildly, they ended up falling next to one another. Death had allowed them to have what they had to keep secret in life, each other.

_Um yeah so… anything that happened to them in this story happened to real people. Google it if you don't believe me. I know I'm horrible but I promise the next chapter is Ancient Rome and will be MUCH happier as will be the chapter after that which is Sparta! Does anyone else find it sad that ancient societies accepted easily what our society constantly challenges? Please review you already read 6,565 words, just give me a few back good or bad. Please thank you all for reading._

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	4. Rome

_The length is not my fault. My MUSE would have nothing to do with me for a good two weeks. Oh and the first part of this chapter gets steamy, after the last three painful chapter, I needed some good old fashioned smut! If it bothers you….um why in the hell are you reading fanfiction about two boys? I don't own anyone, just the names. Please review. Please. _

Beatus found it nearly impossible to detach himself from his lover that morning. Kale had insisted on trying to kill Beatus by making him release 5 times, in a single night. Beatus may have only been 24, but that was a lot, even for him. Kale slept on, a dream induced smile on his kiss bruised lips. Beatus still had trouble believing that Kale was his, and only his. Though it was rare, the men swore completely monogamy to one another, not long after their first time together.

It had started rather innocently, Kale was a beautiful, Gaul, in Rome for a visit, they had met in the baths. Kale had charmed and wooed him, quoting poetry and philosophy, even though several times Beatus had been distracted by Kale's gorgeous mouth. A mouth that Beatus very soon found out was not only amazing at spouting poetry and ideals. Five years had passed, Kale had yet to return to Gaul, and he seemed in no hurry to do so, and Beatus was certainly in no rush to send him back. In fact, the Roman knew that if Kale did go back, he'd have to follow. He was too enamored and in love with the pale, soft, man, to simply let him walk away. And though to look at him, Kale was delicate and weak, but Beatus knew for a fact that not only could Kale use words to hurt far easier than any punch, but his right hook was nearly just as powerful. Kale's brother, Finnlay, had come to "fetch" Kale, as the taller man had put it, two months into their relationship. Kale calmly and graciously refused, but then Finnlay grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away, the punch came so viciously to the broader, taller Gaul, that Finnlay had fallen against a table. All Beatus could do, was stare. Finnlay had seemed somewhat unsurprised by the strength at which the punch had been delivered (He'd had a bruise before he left), but more surprised that Kale had hit him at all.

"I am not leaving, Finnlay, I will write on occasion, but I am happy here, I have found love and a home here." Beatus had beamed at Kale's admission of finding love, Beatus himself had never thought he would find it. Most Roman men who sought love from other men, found it in the slave boys, most of the slaves were not forced into the activity, but even then, Beatus couldn't bring himself to have intercourse with young slaves. Beatus wanted someone his age, someone he could share his life with, not just sex. And Kale filled every quota and desire of Beatus, and he claimed Beatus did the same for him.

Lost in thoughts of his perfect lover, Beatus hadn't realized that Kale had awaken and was looking back, amused.

"You look at my lips much longer and you may burn a hole," he teased, alerting Beatus to his consciousness. Beatus blushed and smiled sheepishly,

"My apologies, my love, they are just so beautiful." Kale smiled and kissed him deeply, this, this was what the gods strived for, this perfection and beauty, and the two of them found it without having to try.

"You, my handsome Roman, are about to find out just want these 'beautiful lips' can do." Kale lifted up the sheet covering their naked bodies, only to go under and toward Beatus, rather impressive member. As Kale's wet, hot mouth engulfed him, Beatus moaned, he'd always been rather vocal, while Kale was practically silent, but Kale let him know in other ways that he was enjoying it. Kale alternated between sucking and licking until Beatus thought he was going to lose his mind. The smaller man chuckled as Beatus let out a cry of pleasure as Kale's tongue stabbed his slit over and over. The chuckle created vibrations that just added more pleasure and soon Beatus was a writhing mess, unable to form coherent words or thoughts. He thought maybe 'Kale' was a word that kept coming out, but he couldn't be sure. Then suddenly, it stopped and Beatus very nearly howled in disappointment, Kale just laughed.

"You didn't honestly believe you were the only one that was going to get anything this morning, did you?" Beatus grinned, realizing what Kale meant before the auburn haired man positioned himself on his stomach, looking back at Beatus. "Are you going to do this now, or should I come back later?" Kale asked, fending seriousness but Beatus could see the playfulness in his eyes.

"Aren't we a demanding lover, this morning?" Beatus teased back as he snaked his hand around Kale's smooth, lean torso and grabbed the equally beautiful cock that was straining in need against the sheets. Kale's breath quickened as Beatus pumped twice, his body arching into the body behind him, a hand reaching for Beatus's which gripped the sheet near Kale's head. Their fingers intertwined just as Beatus plunged into Kale's entry. Beatus gasped and groaned as Kale pushed back towards Beatus, flinching slightly at the pain that they both knew would soon become pleasure. Beatus paused, waiting for the slightly rough breathing of his partner, which he had come to recognize as Kale in pain, to even out. He placed soft, open mouth kisses on Kale's neck and shoulders, causing Kale's muscle's to relax a bit and at the same time, lean into the contact.

"I love you," Beatus whispered into Kale's ivory skin. Kale sighed softly, turning his head to look back at him,

"I love you too." There was no need for the men to whisper, but somehow saying those three words softly had come to mean more to the couple than loud declarations. Kale's breathing was now even, though somewhat quickened, but Beatus knew that was just because he was turned on. He started slow, enjoying the feeling of the warm tightness engulfing his most sensitive body part. Kale's eyes shut and his hand clutched the sheets tightly, his sign to Beatus that he was going well. But it wasn't until a few thrust later that Kale gave him the sign of hitting his sweet spot, he threw his head back, exposing his neck, his mouth half open as though he was moaning, but no sound came out. Beatus didn't mind, because Kale then leaned his head down so that it was between his arms, which were propping his torso up, and Kale's back pressed against Beatus's chest and their only body parts not connected were their heads. And Beatus decided to change that, he released Kale's throbbing cock to grab his hair. This motion pulled the first sound out of Kale and it was a soft hiss of desire. Beatus gently tugged the soft, wavy hair between his fingers, signaling Kale to raise his head. The other man complied, leaning back, turning to look at Beatus who once again hit Kale's spot, as Kale closed his eyes and again opened his mouth in ecstasy.

"Beatus…" Kale breathed so quietly that for a moment Beatus thought he'd imagined it. Kale's eyes opened as he realized Beatus hadn't followed through with his purpose of putting Kale in this position. So he helped him out, stretching his head toward Beatus, who finally remembered what he was doing and kissed Kale ravenously. Kale's eyebrows shot up in surprise of the desperation in his lover's kiss but as Beatus's tongue asked for entrance, he forgot his surprise and allowed entry as he pushed back into the now quickening thrust that sent shock waves through both sweaty, tensing bodies. Beatus moaned, loudly as Kale shifted his hips to get a different angle, causing the penetration to deepen. Kale merely sighed happily again, though he knew they would finish soon. But then Beatus slowed, detaching their lips and grabbed Kale's hips so they couldn't push back. "What are you….?" Kale panted, slightly vexed that his impending climax had been interrupted. Beatus stilled completely and Kale looked back at him confused, "Beatus, are you ok?" Beatus kissed him softly and began rocking calmly, and Kale closed his eyes and arched his back, relishing the feeling of the fullness of Beatus being inside of him. Then Beatus pulled very nearly all the way out of him and Kale tried desperately to push back, but Beatus kept his still, keeping only the head still inside. Kale let out a growl of frustration and tried once again to get things moving again, Beatus just smirked at him, before suddenly and forcefully slamming back into Kale. The unexpectedness as well as the direct shot to his prostate caused Kale to moan. It surprised them both a bit but Beatus grinned,

"Ooh, now I know how to get sound out of you." Kale smirked and grunted softly as Beatus did not ease up his thrusts, they were hard and fast, nailing his spot every single time until Kale's head was on the pillow, his back bent downward in order to give his butt more height, his hips thrusting back with everything they had. Beatus thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Kale's face was flush, his hair was in every direction, every muscle strained. His mouth was open but his eyes were screwed closed, almost as if he were in pain but Beatus knew it was the opposite. Beatus came first, though only half a second before Kale, who gulped air as he collapsed on the bed, Beatus still inside him, Kale's hole clinched, milking Beatus for everything he had. They laid like that, with Beatus's weight on Kale's warm figure, for nearly two minutes. Until their breathing had calmed and their minds were able to respond again, even then, even though Beatus got off Kale, directly, he still held him as they glowed in after sex bliss. Beatus literally wanted for his life to continue this way for eternity. Kale's finger's tickled his side lightly, his lips kissing his neck softly, and Beatus found himself, once again shocked by his lover, and that this man had chosen him.

They both regretted having to go on with their lives outside of their bedroom, but Kale worked with the local blacksmith and Beatus was a well respected gladiator trainer.

"We'll go to the square tonight," Beatus promised, kissing his lover's lips lightly as they left each other.

True to his word, Beatus and Kale found their way to the shopping carts that framed the streets. Kale's eyes sparkled as he picked up Egyptian cotton cloth, that cost as much as Beatus would normally spend on 5 gladiators, but Kale was his lover, and he was far more important to Beatus than a slightly lightened purse.

"Beatus," a voice called out, both men turned to the caller.

"Chancellor," Beatus greeted respectfully, while Kale remained silent, his head bowed reverently as was proper for a non-Roman.

"Could we meet privately, at your home tonight?" The Chancellor asked quietly as though to avoid scandal.

"Of course, sir, it would be an honor," Beatus claimed, nodding politely. The Chancellor nodded in reply, sparing a glance at Kale before turning and leaving.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Kale asked, clearly feeling insecure as he moved his body subtly, so that he was just a few inches closer to his lover. Beatus noticed, and kissed his cheek softly,

"Nothing good, I'm sure, but you have nothing to worry about." Beatus promised, but the situation still didn't sit well with Kale. He knew the ways of the Romans, he knew he was not considered a true partner but merely side item and that soon, probably that night, someone would tell Beatus it was time for him to take a wife. Though Kale knew Beatus's line needed to be carried on, and that it would never be love, part of his heart ached at having to share his beautiful lover.

As Kale paced anxiously that night, waiting for the arrival of the Chancellor, Beatus sighed heavily.

"Kale, please, you are making me nervous," Beatus claimed, grabbing Kale's hand and pulling him into his arms. "It's just a meeting, I'm sure nothing will come of it."

"You don't believe that any more than I do." Kale's voice was soft but resigned. "Beatus, we both know what is going to be offered to you tonight. And we both know you are going to accept, as you should." Kale said, laying soft, light kisses on Beatus's face and neck, "You need an heir, and a woman is the only one who can give you that. Though I would if I could," he whispered the last part and Beatus wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it. Kale inhaled deeply, "I love you, and I always will, you know that." Beatus nodded, hating the hurt in the blue eyes that looked back at him. "And until the day that you send me away, I will be here," Beatus shook his head, burying his face in Kale's neck.

"I will NEVER send you away," Beatus swore and Kale smiled, knowing Beatus didn't break his promises.

"Sir," a familiar voice said hesitantly, knowing it was interrupting.

"Yes, Tatius," Beatus said, pulling his head, but not his arms away from Kale.

"There is a Chancellor to see you," the small, dark haired, boy replied, smiling softly at Kale who smiled back. Tatius knew he was lucky, he had been on the receiving end of a quick tempered man's abuse before Beatus. When he was bought by Beatus, he'd only been 7 and he feared that he wouldn't meet his new master's…expectations. Everyone knew Beatus preferred the company of men, it wasn't something he was ashamed of or kept hidden, and so Tatius's fears weren't unwarranted but as he quickly discovered, they were misplaced. As it turned out, Kale had seen when Tatius's previous owner had whipped him brutally in the middle of the square, and he had begged his new lover to purchase Tatius and take him away from his hell. Tatius would never be able to thank the Gallic enough.

Beatus sighed and kissed Kale lightly,

"I'll be back," he said before going towards the dining room where he knew the Chancellor would be. Tatius wasn't stupid, he knew what the conversation would be about, and from the slightly wounded look on Kale's pale face, he knew too.

"Sir," he said gently, not wanting to upset the kind man who had saved him 4 years ago.

"I've told you before to call me Kale," Kale replied, a small smirk replacing the pained look he'd worn before.

"Sorry, Sir, uh, I mean, Kale," Kale shook his head, knowing that the next day, Tatius would be calling him 'Sir' again. "Can I ask you something, if it's not too bold?" Tatius squeaked quietly. Kale motioned for him to come sit on the bed, Tatius obeyed, sitting next to him as the older man waited patiently. "Why are you just letting the lanista talk to that man about getting married? Don't you love him," Tatius thought for a moment he had gone too far. Though Kale was one of the kindest people he'd ever encountered, he knew the man had a fierce side. And Kale's eyes flashed angrily before going back to their soft ocean color.

"Of course I do, Tatius. Nothing could change that," he inhaled deeply as though what he had to say next weighed a ton. "But, Beatus is a Roman man, the last in his family, thanks to that illness; and a Roman male is expected to live up to certain expectations and traditions. Such as having children to carry on his name, so when he does take on a wife, it won't be for love, it will be for the insurance of his blood line." They both knew that Kale was trying to convince himself more than he was Tatius.

"May I speak my mind?" the eleven year old asked. Kale smirked,

"You've never had a problem with that before," Tatius smiled back and continued,

"Beatus would be a fool if he deserted you, I may be young but I have seen many affairs and marriages, and out of all of them I have never seen a man look at his lover like Beatus looks at you. And I don't know if you've notice but just his name causes your eyes to light up." Kale looked shy about being caught but extremely touched by Tatius's words.

"Thank you, you are wise beyond your years," Kale said.

A hour passed and Kale was alone, wondering if it would be too improper and shameful to interrupt. Just as he decided it wasn't, Beatus entered, stripping of his clothes before crawling into their bed, wrapping his arms around Kale, who stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

"She's the daughter of a senator," Beatus said after several minutes of silence. "Her name is Rachel, and I would give anything in this entire world to not have to marry her." Kale could have cheered at those words, but he didn't, because whether Beatus wanted to or not was irrelevant, he would marry this girl, and Kale would become his affair.

"I love you," Kale whispered, kissing him, waiting to see if he would kiss back. Not only did Beatus kiss back, but he deepened it significantly and pulled Kale somehow closer to him, their nude bodies pressed together.

"I love you too, no matter what. You will always be the one I am devoted to and you are the one I will come to every night, I will only go to her in duty, you, I come to in want, desire, and love." Kale would be lying if he said he didn't smile softly at Beatus's words and kissed him passionately. Tradition and rules may have dictated that Beatus get a wife, but that did not mean that he would love that wife. No, Beatus would always be in love with the man in his arms. "Do you ever wonder if centuries from now, men like us, who truly love each other, will be able to be together, married?" Kale chuckled,

"It seems ridiculous to even consider, but you know," he paused, kissing Beatus once more. "If it takes my soul a million years, it will search forever for you, in the afterlife or if in another human body, I will always find you. And maybe one day, we can get married, and we can be more than lovers. More than just… you and me, we can be, us."

_So…how was it? Please give me your opinion, for I LOVE hearing what you have to say. Please and Thank you. *heart* Next chapter…either Sparta or Pirates…haven't decided. If you want to read one before the other let me know and I'll see what I can do._


	5. Pirates

_Whew! This story took me FOREVER to write! Ok it's pretty long, plus I'm sure you are going to find a lot of mistakes especially with the pirate talk. Kasper (Kurt) seems to change from pirate to proper occasionally, so…bear with me. _

_The term "Kissing the gunner's daughter" means to be laid over a canon and whipped._

_The term Picaroon means scoundrel in pirate talk. _

_I don't own anyone in this story, they are all based on Ryan's characters even if their names are a bit different. Please review it! I need to know how to improve. Hugs and kisses to everyone who has stuck with me. _

Blake stared at the boy that had been thrown to the deck floor. He was small, probably only 16, he was thin and had a petite frame. His skin was pale and soft, his hands lacked callouses and it was clear that this boy was no sailor.

"What's your name, boy?" the captain bit viciously and Blake had to fight the strange urge to protect the boy, Blake was only 20, but he was the best fighter on the crew.

"Kasper," the boy spat out the blood that had apparently gathered in his mouth after the first mate had back handed him. There was something about this boy, the way he looked up at the captain without an ounce of fear, the way he spoke as if he had not just been caught stowing away on a pirate ship. The crew laughed at his name,

"Oooh let us all fear the dread pirate Kasper." Much to their surprise Kasper just rolled his blue eyes,

"Like I haven't heard that before. I've wanted to sail since I was a kid, but I am small, not to mention from a well off family, people like me don't become sailors. But I am the best fighter on this ship and if you want, I will prove it…." Several men ooohed, and they all looked at Blake who smirked, impressed and entranced by this kid. The others backed away from Kasper as he climbed to his feet, "Guess a dagger is out of the question," he muttered, his eyes examining his opposition investigating him.

Blake grinned as he held his own knife in his hand, this boy would have to learn the hard way that pirates were not prim little boys from boarding schools who a girl could beat in a fight without much trouble. And part of Blake would hate to have the boy cast overboard, he was nothing if not spunky, and to be honest, Blake liked that. Kasper shifted slowly from one of his feet to the other, getting his footing and also weighing his options, Blake could see his eyes taking in his surroundings. When he felt he'd given the boy enough time to believe he had a fighting chance, he lunged. He couldn't lie and say he hadn't been surprised when the boy dodged easily, as though he was gliding. He was now on Blake's side, taking a couple of steps back, the other men stayed out of the way, this was Blake's fight and they wouldn't intervene. Suddenly, Kasper lashed out, kicking Blake hard in the abdomen and Blake gasped in surprise and pain, but quickly retaliated, slashing skillfully towards Kasper. Kasper smirked as though he'd just discovered and secret and he jumped up onto the side of the ship, Blake went forward and Kasper leaped over his head and landed behind him, shoving him forward with a power no one would suspect for such a small frame. Blake jumped on the side of the ship this time, once he had retained his footing and turned so he would have the higher ground, but Kasper just grinned again, joining him on the same level, but he was on the riggings.

"This is your best fighter?" Kasper asked, turning to the captain, "You might want to find yourself a better crew." Blake sprang toward him, only to be once again, gracefully avoided. Kasper grabbed a rope that was dangling off of the mast and swung off of the rigging, around Blake and then came back down on his other side, swiping his feet to Blake's calves. Had the older man not grabbed the ropes in front of him he would have hit the deck, hard. Kasper chuckled lightly, "Wasn't expecting this, now were you?" he asked, a gleam in his eyes that Blake rarely saw in anyone, they were all too beaten down by the pirate life. Blake almost wanted to defeat Kasper so, if nothing else, his eyes would never lose that light.

"Ye're good, kid, I'll give ye that," Blake agreed, moving to stab him once more, but Kasper swung around to the other side so that they were separated by the rigging's ropes. "But the difference between ye and me, is that I'm a pirate, and I fight dirty." Blake pulled a rope and threw it out towards Kasper who went to move only to be met on the other side by another rope. Blake got the rope to wrap around Kasper's wrist and jerked it sharply. Kasper flinched as they all heard something pop, but then he grabbed the rope tied around his wrist and pulled it back just as roughly, causing Blake to nearly lose his balance.

"See that is one reason this crew could benefit me, everyone under estimates me. Plus," he added, looking down at the captain who looked flabbergasted at this teenager's skill, "I am so small that I could pass for a woman, I could go into towns before all of you, find out where the loot is, and maybe even keep the guards distracted while you take whatever you want." Blake stopped trying to knock Kasper off and turned to the captain, who looked as though he was seriously considering it. Then suddenly, Kasper, who had come back to Blake's side of the riggings, wrapped his arm around Blake's throat, taking the knife out of his hand and then, though no one was sure how it happened, he managed to get a rope, hanging from the sails around Blake's neck and waist. He pushed Blake lightly, but held both the piece of rope around his neck and waist firmly, so though it gave the allusion that Blake was falling, he knew he was secure. Though the rope around his neck made him uneasy, particularly since Kasper tightened it slightly as he looked down at the crew again, clearly they had all under estimated him. "So, was the plan always that the loser is thrown overboard, or was it just if I lost?" They stared at him as he leaned casually against the mast, still holding Blake strongly in his hands. After a pregnant moment of silence the captain guffawed, slapping his thighs,

"Welcome to the crew, Lad!" He motioned for Kasper to come down to the deck, Kasper, rather gently, pulled Blake back up to where he was standing, and released him of his bounds in one easy motion.

"Where did a kid like ye, learn to fight like that?" Wesley asked Kasper as soon as the victor was on the deck.

"A kid like me in a town full of bigger, inbred, bastards," he paused, "I had to learn to take care of myself." Kasper held Blake's knife out to him, "I could have beat you on a fist to fist fight too." Blake smirked,

"I believe ye." Blake couldn't get rid of the feeling in his stomach that this boy had put there. "Is your wrist all right?" he asked, nodding to Kasper's wounded wrist, it was slightly swollen and a bit bruised already.

"Oh, yes, it's just a sprain, I've had worse," Kasper promised, turning the wrist gingerly.

"Boy!" the first mate, Figgins snapped, "the cap'n wants to talk to you." Kasper nodded and nodded a 'later' to Wesley and Blake. David chuckled as he approached Blake after Kasper was out of sight,

"Can't believe ye let a lubber beat you, mate," David said, throwing his arm around Blake's shoulders.

"Like to see ye try, ye carouser, could barely stand last night could ye?" Blake replied, raising his eyebrow,

"Never said I could beat him, hell I can't even beat Wesley, and he's a horrible wretch at the sword." Blake chuckled as Wesley punched David in the gut, though they all knew it wasn't to truly hurt him.

Now that the excitement was over everyone went back to their previous activities, which at the moment including rolling dice on the deck, gambling to see who would get the higher score. Blake however chose not to partake in the event, and instead kept his eyes trained on the captain's quarters, waiting for the young man to emerge. They all knew Captain Sylvester could be harsh on new crew members, hell he was harsh to the experienced ones, and even though Blake could tell that there was very little that kid couldn't take, a pirate's life was harsh and cruel and unforgiving. It destroyed weak men, and it damaged the strong, Blake only hoped the kid was prepared.

"Aye, Captain," a familiar voice brought Blake out of his trance, seeing now that Kasper was exiting the captain's room. He motioned for Kasper to come over to him, which the boy did, waiting expectantly,

"Was Cap'n hard on ye? He can come off mean and cruel, but he's a good Cap'n." Kasper nodded,

"I assumed, I can't imagine running a ship leaves you much room to be jovial." Blake looked at him for a moment,

"What the blast was jovical mean?" Kasper laughed softly,

"Jovial, it mean, easy-going." Blake shook his head,

"If ye gon' be a pirate, Mate, ya best learn to talk like us." Kasper did not seem to like that idea at all as he scrunched up his face at the very idea, he was adorable. Blake's eyes widened slightly at is thought, he thought he'd gotten over that phase, being on a ship with a bunch of smelly, unkempt pirates meant that he was able to keep that part of him away. But this man wasn't smelly or unkempt, he was gorgeous, and Blake knew then and there, he was in trouble.

"I don't think I can do that, besides, if I am going to be pretending to be a woman, I can't be talking like a pirate, now can I?" Kasper's eyes widened at his incorrect English, "Oh Lord, it's already started." It was Blake's turn to laugh, though his stomach twisted in a way that he knew was not due to the waves, when Kasper smiled back at him.

"Ye'll get over it." Blake claimed, smiling back, despite the fact that he knew it was a bad idea. "And 'sides, all the women I've ever met, don't talk good English anyway. Don't tink anyone would care if ye didn't." Kurt raised his eyebrow haughtily,

"Do I look like the type of person that would dress as a two cent prostitute?" Blake wasn't sure what it was about this man, any other person spoke to him this way and he would have slit their throats, but not Kasper.

"What about your folks? Aren't they going to be worried about their prissy little boy?" Blake teased, though he realized that was a bad idea when Kasper punched him in the arm, he would have a bruise.

"My mum died when I was 8 and my Dad has been ashamed of me for about as long, so, my guess is that he either has figured out I'm gone, or he just doesn't care." Ah, Blake realized, so that attitude was a mask, kept in place, lest he seem weak to others.

"What ye father got to be ashamed of, ye fight better t'an any man I ever saw," Blake revealed, slightly surprised when a faint pink color appeared on Kasper's cheeks.

"Thank you, but… I have an affliction that makes me the talk of the town, and my father's shame," Kasper explained.

"I don't see no'fin wrong w'ich ye," Blake stated, looking for something physically wrong with the perfect man.

"Not something you can see," Kasper whispered, refusing to meet Blake's eyes. "Don't ask me what it is, I can't tell you," Kasper claimed sighing. "Would you show me the sleeping quarters, please?"

10 months passed since Kasper was found stowed away. At first everyone assumed he wouldn't pull his own weight, after all, what did a small, proud, rich, little boy know about ships. It didn't take more than a week to discover, Kasper knew _everything_ about ships. And though he had once had a silver spoon in his mouth, he was one of the hardest working men on the ship. And his small stature came in handy for more than just dressing up as a woman and getting them into the town. (The very first time they used Kasper that way, they took three times the booty they normally did). But another way the undersized pirate paid off, was during a terrible storm, one of the rigging lines had gotten caught on the crow's nest, and they couldn't raise the sail and if they didn't soon, the sail was going to rip. While others tried to figure out how to do it, Kasper had climbed up the crow's nest, and managed to get under it and free the rope. It may have taken a while, but the other pirates never under estimated him again.

"So tell me, Mr. Hodgkins," Blake laid smoothly on one of the hammocks as Kasper mopped the floor. "How does it feel to have been a pirate for 10 months?" Blake's spoke more properly the more he was around Kasper, and only when they had to be apart, were they. Kasper smirked,

"Best 10 months of me

life." Blake smiled,

"I'm glad, ye deserve happiness." Kasper looked up at him, Blake had said that softly, and so sweet that Kasper had only heard his parents ever speak to each other that way.

"Thank ye," he blushed, going back to mopping.

"Kasper," Blake muttered,

"Aye," Kasper waited.

"Was the reason your father was ashamed of ye, because ye lust after other men," Kasper spun around and covered Blake's mouth with his hand, looking around in a panic.

"I could be _killed _if that got out. What were you thinking?" Kasper hissed, making sure no one heard him.

"I was thinking," Blake moved his mouth away from Kasper's hand, "That it sure be nice to know that ye love me as much as I love ye." Blake admitted, his eyes not leaving Kasper's. The eyes that put the Caribbean Sea to shame had widened slightly and Kasper took a step back.

"Even if I did, we couldn't act on it, we'd be lucky to just be marooned if we were caught," Blake rose and approached Kasper,

"We wouldn't get caught." Blake breathed, his lips dangerously close to Kasper's.

"Ye know nothing goes on, on this ship without everyone knowing about it." Kasper stated, putting his hand on Blake's chest to push him away. But the tight muscles and the steady heartbeat, tricked Kasper into thinking that maybe they could be together. He let out a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a moan as Blake crashed their lips together, wrapping his arms around Kasper's waist. Though Kasper's hand was still on Blake's chest, he didn't push him away, he felt the muscles, letting his finger's revel in their tautness. Suddenly Blake pulled away, though Kasper's lips followed for a moment before Kasper opened his eyes.

"Do ye trust me?" Blake asked softly, his pupils blown open with desire.

"Yes," Kasper agreed and he allowed himself to be led to the storage room. Blake shut the door and put 5 bags of heavy grain in front of it, no one was getting in. After a slightly awkward moment of quiet Kasper whispered, "Is this really happening?" Blake went forward and kissed his nose lightly,

"Only if ye want it to." Kasper couldn't help but smile at being given a choice and he nodded, wrapping his leg around Blake's thigh. Blake gasped softly at the feel of a very hard cock against his leg, he could already tell that Kasper was large, maybe even bigger than him. He swallowed hard as Kasper kissed his neck lightly, sucking just a bit, not enough to mark him, but enough to make him whimper. Knowing they couldn't be loud, any sound they wanted to emit was cut off and turned into a softer, smaller sound. The cry of Blake entering him, was turned into a hiss, the moan of being in Kasper's tightness was cut into a sigh, the shout of pleasure as they both spilled out, became a soft whine. As they both still panted, they smiled lazily at each other and delivered lust-drunk kisses.

They continued like this for 3 years, quiet love in the barred storage room, glances stolen across the deck, touches give when no one could see them. Neither man had ever been happier, and of course this is the point where that all changed.

"It's a bloody shame ye can't look like this all the time," Wesley claimed as Kasper walked out in his high fashion dress.

"It's a bloody shame I have to look at your face at all ye, scrappy sea bass," Kasper replied to the cheers of the other pirates. Wesley smirked,

"And to tink, ye came on this ship all prim and proper, and now look at ye now, me proud beauty, just as insulting as the rest of us ye scurvy dog." Kasper smirked and shoved Wesley amiably,

"LAND AHOY!" Jacob yelled from the crow's nest.

"So what town am I charming today?" Kasper asked, putting on his 'coy' voice.

"Port Royal," Blake replied, the second he said it, every ounce of color drained from his face and his eyes widened.

"Ye all right, matey?" David asked, as he helped hoist the sails.

"I'm fine," Kasper lied and met eyes with Blake, who knew he wasn't. Blake looked downward, Kasper nodded, getting the message, and a few minutes after Blake left, Kasper followed.

"What is it?" Blake asked, taking Kasper's hand with both of his.

"Port Royal, used to be home," Kasper practically whispered, before shaking his head firmly, "But I will be fine, no one is going to recognize me, even you said I don't look like me in this, and you know me better than anyone." Blake nodded and kissed his lips lightly,

"Are ye sure? I'm sure Cap'n will figure something out if ye tell 'im." Kasper shook his head,

"No need, I can do this."

Kasper was a beautiful woman, though Blake knew which version he preferred, Wesley may like Kasper as a woman, but Blake loved how under that dress, he was all man. As always Kasper went into the town a day before everyone else, then he could come back at dark and tell them what he found out, then the next day, he would go out once again and flirt and tease the guards of where ever they were taking from before going back to the ship and joining in the celebration of another pillage well done.

That day started like any other, practically every man tipped his hat to Kasper, or Kassie as he said when anyone in the town asked. The women clung a bit tighter to their husbands upon catching sight of this new woman in town.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, can I be of service?" Kasper turned around, flirtatious smile in place, until he realized just who he was looking at.

"Dave…" he breathed so softly that he was shocked and horrified that Dave had heard him.

"Have I had the pleasure of meeting you before? One would think I would remember a face as beautiful as yours," Dave said, rather sweetly_. Pull yourself together, Kasper, _he scolded himself before smiling warmly,

"It was at one of those tedious dinner parties, I am sure there is no way you could possibly remember all the girls that were throwing themselves at you." Dave chuckled and flushed and despite the fact that Kasper felt as if any moment his stomach may come out of his mouth, he knew he was doing well. "My name is K-"_ Kassie is too close to Kasper, if he even has an inkling…._ "Calliope," _not bad…_

"I'm Commodore Karofsky, but you can continue to call me David,"

"Commodore? How honorable, you weren't ranked that when I met you," Kasper flirted, knowing he had to in order to get what he needed.

"Yes, it is a recent promotion, only thing missing to make my life perfect is a woman to share it with," David said, smiling softly.

"Is that a proposal, already? We are just meeting for the second time in our lives, don't you think you should at least show me around the town before we get married," Kasper's heart was pounding so loudly, he wondered how Karofsky didn't hear it. Karofsky smiled,

"You are right, of course," he offered Kasper his arm and though Kasper had done this with dozens of men, this was his past tormentor, but he was a pirate, not a scared teenager anymore. He took the arm, curtsying properly, and let Karofsky lead him to, what felt like the gallows, and probably would be if he were caught.

Two hours had passed and he had been shown the armory, the bank, the church, (though they never robbed the church, Captain's orders). And every other building of significance, a lot had changed in the three years though one thing that hadn't, was his old home. He stopped in front of the gate, staring at the house he'd spent 16 years of his life, eight of them, happy, the other eight fearful and rejected.

"This is General Hodgkins's house, good man, shame what happened," Kasper looked up at him.

"What do you mean?" He was actually rather proud of himself for keeping his voice steady.

"His wife died a while back, and his son, after her death, went crazy," Kasper gasped softly, though nothing more than a quick intake of breath. "The general did everything he could, but it was too late, Kasper, was his name, he just went nuts, always saying he was a pirate, saying how he was a better captain than Blackbeard. It was sad really, he'd always been a bit…" Kasper waited for what he'd always been, "different," _How anti-climatic…_

"So what happened to Kasper?" Kasper asked, wondering if anyone had a clue where he was.

"We think he drown, one night he was there and when they woke up the next morning he was gone, but they did find his jacket and hat washed up on the shoreline." Kasper had to hold back a smirk, _knew that would work,_

"Oh that is just terrible, poor Mr. Hodgkins," Kasper said in his sympathetic voice.

"Look, there he is now," if Kasper wasn't close to vomiting before, he was now, he turned to see a cart coming toward the gate where they stood. His father, who had barely aged a day, leaned out of the window.

"Commodore, to what do I owe-" Suddenly he stopped, having caught sight of Kasper.

"General, this is Calliope," Dave introduced them.

"Nice to meet you, General," Kasper nearly flinched as his voice went higher at the terror he was under at the moment. His father stared at him for another moment before turning back to Dave,

"I insist that you and your lovely friend join me for dinner."

"Oh, no Sir, I couldn't. I have to get back home, but I am so honored by the invitation," Kasper said as calmly as he could, considering he would have given anything to run away, and not stop running until he was in Blake's arms.

"No, I absolutely insist, you can come in right now, and we'll have you back before dark," Kasper blinked rapidly, trying to think of an excuse other than, _I think you already know who I am and you're going to kill me._

"Well, I suppose that will be all right." Kasper agreed, wondering, as he stepped forward, if he would ever see his friends or Blake again.

The inside of his home hadn't changed at all, it even still had the old table that he had made when he was young in an attempt to please his father. His dad had called it a ragged piece of filth, but it still sat in the parlor.

"You have a beautiful home, General," Kasper said, wishing he could scream and the crew could swing down on ropes and save him. But then he realized, he was not a damsel in distress, he was the best fighter on the crew, he was a pirate for God's sake. A pirate in a dress and wig, but a pirate none the less, he could get out of this on his own…probably. Maybe.

"Thank you Calliope, tell me about yourself," _he knew._ Kasper paused, looking directly at his father, their eyes were identical, _of course he knew_.

"My life has never been one of any great consequence. It seems to be one dinner party after another, attempting to find a proper husband, my parents are both gone and so I take care of myself, and…"

"That's enough, Kasper," his father growled.

"How long have you known?" Kasper asked as though mentioning the cloudy day.

"WHAT?" Dave roared, Kasper rolled his eyes,

"Get over it Dave, it's not like I kissed you or anything." It was rather unexpected, and with much more force than probably necessary, but the power at which Dave punched his jaw, sent him to the floor. He exhaled slowly but before he had the chance to get up and retaliate he was kicked in the stomach. The next he avoided, wishing he wasn't in the dress, he stood as quickly as he could, watching Dave carefully.

"I'm a Commodore now, I can fight better than you," Dave panted. Kasper smirked, and with one nearly invisible movement, he took his gun out of the side of his dress and aimed it at Dave, shooting him in the head.

"And I can kill better than you," _pirate._ Kasper thought with pride, he knew his father had servants, and probably guards, so he had to get out of there as fast as he could.

"What happened to you, Kasper?" his father asked, staring at Karofsky's lifeless body.

"A lot, Father," Kasper spit the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"You mother would be ashamed of you," the General hissed and for a moment Kasper considered shooting him too.

"Not as ashamed as she would have been of you, for telling people I was crazy, surely you didn't truly believe I drowned," Kasper said, thinking how he was going to get out of town and back to the ship without being caught.

"No, I didn't really think that, didn't know what happened, but you were always an amazing swimmer," his father said. Kasper rolled his eyes,

"Go ahead call your guards, by the time they get here, I'll be long gone." Kasper turned and ran out the side door, just in time to hear his father cry out for the guards and police. He was actually grateful for the years he had to run from his tormentors, it meant he knew every nook and cranny in the town. He evaded the guards and police easily, stripping the dress off, he couldn't swim in a dress. He felt bad leaving the row boat, but not only could they get another, but he couldn't risk them seeming him row out there and lead them to the ship, where he'd put everyone else in danger. He was only in his female under clothes, chuckling as he heard the police continuing their search. He stopped when he reached the cliff, it wasn't too far down, it would hurt, but he could make it. He dove gracefully, after one last check that he had not been followed. The sharp pain of the hit on the sea and the burn of the cold water was a relief, it was familiar and somehow safer than the shore. He began the swim to the ship, which was hidden away from view of shore, in a cove. It only took him ten minutes to get there and as soon as the ship came into view the cry of,

"Kasper!" hit his ears, and never had he been happier to hear the first mate's voice. They lowered a rope and he grabbed on as they pulled him up.

"What the bloody-" Wesley started as soon as he hit the deck but Kasper shook his head.

"We have to go. Now, we have to sail out _now!_" He cried, looking around for the captain.

"Kasper," Blake said softly, but Kasper shook his head.

"I killed a commodore! We need to leave!" Kasper tried once more before grabbing the line himself and pulling to release the sail.

"Kasper, what the hell happened?" David asked, "That bruise is huge,"

"All hand's on deck ye dogs, ye heard Kasper, we sail!" the captain's voice yelled over the other sounds of the crew attempting to get Kasper to talk. Kasper sighed in relief until the Captain motioned for him to come up to his quarters, Blake watched nervously as Kasper walked up there, still in his female under garments. They had been sailing nearly 30 minutes when Kasper came back out, nodding to the captain though, this time, the captain followed him. The crew looked up confused and expecting, but they were all surprised when the captain ripped the under shirt Kasper was wearing roughly off and shoved him hard onto the deck. Blake fought everything he had in him to stop when he knew was about to happen. "Kasper, murdered a commodore, which I don't condemn, but then his _father_ recognized him, and sent the guards and police after him. He didn't betray us, they have no idea Kasper's one of us, the Bilge-sucking landlubbers. The trial is that he hid information from me, Port Royal used to be his home. I tink our little Kassie, needs a kiss from the gunner's daughter, to remember to be more careful next time.

Blake took a step back, he wouldn't watch this, _couldn't_ watch it. But he knew if he left and anyone realized he was missing, he'd get a kiss of his own. Kasper was bent over the cannon, a look of acceptance and strength on his face. But there was something else, that Blake knew had nothing to do with the whipping but more to do with what had happened at Port Royal. The whip, which thank GOD wasn't a cat o' nine tails, came down harshly on Kasper's back, but Kasper just blinked at the pain of the whelp. 8 lashes later however he was gripping the rope that held the cannon in place, and crying out, his eyes tight shut. At fifteen the whip stopped and Kasper and Blake both sagged in relief.

"Get 'im out of me sight," the captain growled and Blake moved to help him, careful that he didn't seem too desperate to get to him. No one noticed though, Blake and Kasper were close friends, everyone knew that…

"Mmm," Kasper whimpered softly as Blake touched his shoulder gently. His back was shredded and bleeding, he looked up slowly into his lover's eyes, and relief and love flooded them, before they quickly went cold.

"Can you walk, love?" Blake whispered so that no one could hear him,

"Course I can." Kasper insisted, flinching violently as he moved to stand, "Bloody hell. Cap'n didn't have mercy in him today," he hissed as he slowly rose to a standing position, only to collapse in Blake's arms a moment later. "Maybe I can't walk after all," he admitted weakly," Blake nodded and looked at Kasper's back to see if there was a place for his arm to go without hitting a lesion. He found none, as each of the fifteen strikes had clearly been delivered with the purpose of covering the nineteen year old from the top of the shoulders to the top of his buttocks.

"This is gon' hurt, Kas," Blake admitted as he gingerly placed his arm on the middle of his love's back. Kasper closed his eyes tightly against the pain and bit his lip to keep from sowing anymore. "Ready?" Kasper nodded and bit harder, a moan dying in his throat as Blake lifted him up into his arms. "I know, but it'll be over soon," he promised as he saw the anguish in Kasper's eyes.

"It was Karofsky, the commodore I killed," Kasper panted in pain as he was slowly carried below decks.

"He give ye t'at bruise?" Blake asked, lowering him slowly onto his stomach on the pile of flour in the storage room.

"Aye," Kasper replied softly, shifting gingerly to try and find a position that didn't hurt.

"Then it be a good thing he's dead, we'd go back if he won't," Blake said, his voice in a low growl as he searched for what he was looking for.

"Why?" Kasper asked, his voice strained at trying to keep the pain out.

"So I could kill 'im meself," Blake declared. Kasper smiled softly and moaned in relief as Blake pulled out a bottle of rum.

"Thank God," he said as he held out his hand, Blake looked at him for a moment before shaking his head.

"Need it for your cuts," he claimed but Kasper raised his eyebrows threateningly,

"Ye give me that bloody rum or I'll run ye through." Blake almost laughed, until he saw Kasper was serious and he handed over the bottle, staring at his lover as he guzzled down half the amber liquid before handing it back. "Thank ye," Kasper said, once again in the soft tone he'd had earlier.

"Are ye ready, this might hurt more than the whippin'" Blake admitted but Kasper just nodded and waited. Blake slowly poured what was left of the only disinfected available, into the bleeding sores. Kasper gritted his teeth, until he could no longer hold back a moan but the more that was poured in the louder the cries of pain got, until Blake grabbed Kasper's hand with one hand, while the other kept pouring.

"Stop, please-" Kasper gasped as his hand gripped Blake's a tightly as it could.

"Just a bit more, love, just a lil bit more," Blake promised, pausing only to lean down and nuzzle Kasper's neck comfortingly. Kasper whimpered but nodded, still gripping Blake's hand with everything he had. "I love ye," he whispered as he finished off the bottle in the most tender part of Kasper's back. Kasper cried out, panting heavily when the pain stopped amplifying and was now only a dull throb. Blake brushed the sweaty brown strands of hair out of Kasper's eyes, watching as Kasper slowly turned to look at him. His eyes were glazed over with pain but they were no longer guarded and Blake could see the love. He brushed their lips together lightly, not thinking about the storage room door still being opened, and so caught in their love and comfort for each other, they didn't notice the surprised face that stared at them from the door frame.

Two weeks had passed and Kasper's back was now mostly healed scabs, though they were going to be scars for the remainder of his life. He raised the riggings without even a wince, though Blake knew it still hurt to stretch them like that, but Kasper was the best at covering is feelings that Blake had ever seen.

"Stop staring at 'im, Cap'n will see and then ye and Kas will get the brig, or worse," Blake turned to Wesley who looked back at him, knowingly. Blake's eyes widened slightly and he grabbed Wesley and pulled him around to a small corner of the deck where he knew no one would hear them.

"How long have ye-?" Blake asked, forcing himself to not seek out Kasper.

"Known that ye two were together?" Wesley asked in a hushed voice that made Blake realize that what he and Kasper had was forbidden and fatal. "I saw ye fixing him up in storage room after his floggin'," Blake flinched, he'd risked his lover's life by being too caught up with his love and concern for him, to think about shutting the door.

"Shit," Blake cursed, "Anyone else know?" Blake asked, his voice small as he chanced a glance at Kasper who was looking back at him confused and worried.

"Not that I know of, ye're just lucky it was me and not someone who would have gone to the cap'n, who would have thrown ye overboard. So if you know what's good for ye, and Kasper, ye'll end it, now." Wesley scolded and Blake knew he was right, knew that if he and Kasper continued, they would eventually get caught by someone without the loyalty of Wesley, and they'd be killed. With one sharp nod from Blake, Wesley turned heels and left. Blake once again looked at Kasper who watched him carefully. Blake motioned with his head downward, Kasper got the clue and nodded subtly and waited several minutes before joining Blake below decks. It was a small nook in the corner that they always went to, to be alone. Kasper was instantly worried when he saw Blake's look, he was pale and biting his lip nervously, and Blake was nothing if not confident.

"Blake?" Kasper whispered, glancing around, searching for anyone that could possibly over hear them, when he found no one, he focused his attention on Blake.

"We- He-," Blake inhaled deeply, knowing he had to tell the truth, "Wesley saw us, he knows." Kasper then knew why Blake was pale as he felt all the color drain out of his own face.

"What do we do?" Kasper whispered, afraid if his voice did go above a whisper everyone on the entire ship would hear and know. Blake looked at the man in front of him, he had been foolish agreeing with Wesley to end what he and Kasper had. Kasper was the best thing to ever happen to him, on land or off. He couldn't just stop feeling his love for Kasper, he couldn't just stop touching him, and kissing him, and making love to him, it didn't work that way.

"We leave," Blake claimed, taking Kasper's hand in his, he wondered if Kasper would pull away in fear but instead Kasper stared at him.

"We're in the middle of the ocean," Blake couldn't help but chuckle at the lack of logic that his lover displayed when he was scared.

"Nay, love, I mean when we dock, get off the ship and go somewhere, ye and me," Blake suggested, liking the idea more and more.

"Aye, we will just waltz into Tortuga hand in hand and everything will be brilliant," Kasper rolled his eyes.

"We'll go someone else, a small town," Blake replied, Kasper huffed.

"Small towns are worse." Blake scoffed in annoyance,

"Fine we will find our own island! Me point is, we can be together, though the way ye are talking, makes me tink you don't wanna be with me." Kasper recognized this and wrapped his arms around Blake's waist, pulling him close,

"Ye know that's not true." Kasper scolded, looking into the hazel eyes that stared back, "I'm scared, this ship had been me home for three years, me only true home, but, for ye, I'd live anywhere." Blake grinned and kissed him tenderly, knowing they couldn't show their true feelings for each other where people might see, they'd get carried away and unable to stop.

"Do we tell the cap'n?" Blake asked,

"That we are deserting together?" Kasper laughed softly, "That'll go over well," Blake rolled his eyes but smiled. The prison in the brig smirked, having heard the majority of the conversation, and now, he had a bargaining tool.

"DIS HAD BETTER BE GOOD!" Captain Sylvester roared as Jacob lead him down to the brig.

"He said he want'd speak to ye cap'n, seemed important," Jacob said nervously, knowing he could be killed just as easily as the prisoner if the captain was pissed off.

"For ye neck, ye'd better hope it is, or ye will be in Davy Jones's locker before the day's out." The captain growled turning to the prisoner, "What do ye want ye yellow bellowed bastard." It didn't help that the captain was in a foul mood.

"I know that two are you men are going to desert, what does that get me?" the prisoner, Finnigan asked. The captain stared at him for a moment, not noticing that Wesley had overheard and had gone above deck.

"None of me men would desert," Captain Sylvester claimed, but they all knew he was interested.

"They would if they were together, in love…" Finnegan explained, Captain Sylvester's eyes darkened and Finnegan wondered if maybe he hadn't just gotten himself killed.

"Who? Did you hear names?" the captain asked, his voice angry and growling. Finnegan nodded,

"One of them called the other 'Blake'," the captain's eyes flickered with recognition.

"Tell me did the other have light brown hair, blue/green eyes, tiny fellow?"

"I didn't see I only heard, he had a high voice though, usually high for a male," Finnegan claimed. The captain growled in anger and turned back to go above deck. "Wait! What about me? I told you, what do I get?" Captain Sylvester turned back to him slowly,

"Me gratitude," he said harshly before continuing on his quest to find Blake and Kasper.

"BLAKE!" Wesley yelled once he finally spotted the curly haired man. Blake turned to him confused but saw instantly the fear on his face. "The prisoner heard ye and Kasper talking about yer plans to desert," Blake took a step back, his eyes scanning desperately for Kasper, who was nowhere to be seen. "Ye 'ave to hide, Blake, now, I'll find Kasper, but ye 'ave to hide," Blake looked at Wesley and knew he wouldn't lie, that he would find Kasper, hopefully before the captain did. Blake ran below decks, praying to any god that might have been listening that Kasper wouldn't be found by the captain. He hid in the storage room, in the back, under some boxes, he was close enough to the main part to be able to hear if anything should happen. But luck nor god, was with him that day as he heard a pain filled cry and a thud and Blake got the feeling that Kasper had just been thrown down the steps.

"Where is he?" Figgins growled furiously, Blake's heart twisted, Kasper didn't know where he was, but they would never believe that.

"Like I'm gonna tell ye," Kasper bit, able to sound just as fierce as the captain. Blake couldn't see what was happening, but he heard Kasper's cry and he knew, no matter what, they would not win.

"Listen to me, Kasper," the captain said calmly, "If you don't tell me where he is, I am going to torture and kill ye, and then when we find 'im, I am going to torture and kill 'im. But if you tell me, I will have mercy and make it quick."

"Oh like I am going to trust a _pirate_," Kasper growled, hissing as they did something else to cause him pain. It wasn't blows, Blake would be able to hear them, but he still couldn't figure out what they were doing to his beautiful lover.

"Learned that from being one yerself, huh Kassie?" the captain mocked.

"That's right," Kasper replied as brave and proud as ever. Figgins chuckled cruelly,

"I always thought it was strange that ye w're so willin' to dress as a woman, but ye did it for kicks didn't you, Kassie?" then Kasper let out a sound somewhere between a cry and a screech, a sound that Blake had NEVER heard before, not from his stoic lover.

"What's the matter, Kassie, ye don't need it, ye think we don't know you're the one that takes it up the ass," the captain said so savagely that Blake nearly vomited. But maybe it had something to do with the fact that he finally understood what was happening to Kasper.

"No… no…" Kasper panted, "Ggghhhhhuuunnnnnnaa."

"TELL US WHERE HE!" Captain Sylvester roared, even above Kasper's sudden cry.

"I don't know!" Kasper admitted, panting heavily before screaming again, "No!" He cried again but this time, Blake heard a sound that he knew was a kick and a crack, which, knowing Kasper, he had just broken Figgins' nose. The captain laughed viciously and Blake fought every fiber of his being to not run out and give himself away. Suddenly a much louder and more obvious crunch sounded and Kasper screamed once more, and Blake understood that what ever had been broken then, was Kasper's.

"What's the matter, afraid Blake won't love ye, without yer cock," Captain Sylvester ridiculed. Kasper moaned softly, but Blake heard him inhale deeply,

"That's what this is about init?" Kasper asked gasping against the pain. "Ye're not angry that we're men, ye're angry because we love each other, and ye wouldn't know what it felt like to love another human being if it kicked ye in the teeth!" This time there was the distinct sound of a kick and a soft cry, from Kasper, but that did not stop the petit pirate. "I will never give him up, because I would rather be tortured a thousand times and die a thousand painful deaths, than have him endure the same." Blake shut his eyes, _I feel the same, my love, don't you know that?_ He asked his lover silently, "And yes, I know if he can hear this he is in agony, listening to me scream, but I'll be _damned_ if I am going to have a part in this happening to him. So you can stab me and beat me and break me bones, and cut me damn cock off, but I will NEVER tell you where he is." Blake knew Kasper better than anyone, and he knew what the younger man said was true, but that did not mean that Blake would let it happen to Kasper to save his own skin either.

"Hear that, men?" Blake heard the captain call to the upper decks," Free reign to do whatever we want, so have at 'im. I'll bet he'll even be willing to do for ye what we don't have women here to do." Blake's stomach heaved as he heard a large number of the men come below. After a few moments of struggling and fighting Kasper screamed in anguish and everyone else laughed.

"STOP IT!" Blake knew Kasper would be angry at him for giving himself up, but he would deal with that later. At the moment Kasper's pants had been pulled down and he was being pressed harshly on the floor, on his stomach, being held by several others while another had started undoing his own pants. The Captain smirked triumphantly and Kasper moaned in defeat, burying his face into the planks as his hands were pulled roughly behind him.

Only a second passed before he too was being held with his hands behind his back, wincing at the harshness that these men, that he'd practically considered brothers, were showing toward them, now that they knew. They were still Kasper and Blake, why did being together make this big of a difference. Then suddenly he realized that just because they now had both of them, it didn't stop them from what they were about to do to Kasper.

"NO! Take me! Do whatever ye want to me! Leave him be!" Kasper let out a soft groan, and Blake knew he was a mixture of annoyed, angry, and scared.

"Whatcha tink cap'n?" Figgins asked and Blake wanted to kill him. "Two is always been better than one," this time however it was Kasper that protested.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" he yelled, "I'm right here, ripe for the taking, ye leave him alone!" The captain smirked almost in amusement but then he shook his head,

"I changed me mind men, they want to be left alone, I say we do just that." Several of the men groan in disappointment but Kasper was yanked to his feet. He yelped and help up his right foot and Blake made the connection that, that was the crunch he heard. They pulled Kasper's pants up and both men sighed softly in relief. "There is an island 2 days sail from here, I say we leave them there, to spend the rest of their miserable, lives together." The captain explained and Blake would have been lying if he said he hadn't released another sigh of relief, marooning he could handle. Slowly the mob dispersed and the only ones left were the ones holding them apart, plus Figgins and the captain.

"Cap'n, I'm ain't questioning ye har, but… ain't marooning letting them off a bit easy?" Figgins asked and part of Blake wanted to strangle him with the binds around his hands.

"Nay, Figs, I tink watching the one ye love die slowly, being powerless to stop it, will be plenty punishment," Captain Sylvester claimed, motioning to the brig, which still contained the man that had ratted them out. They were thrown roughly in, unable to caught themselves against falling, and they both fell to the ground, Kasper crying out at the pain in his broken foot. They sat up, Kasper against the back wall and Blake against the bars on the other side. Finnegan stayed as far away as he could, though Blake was unsure of why.

"Damn you," Kasper said, speaking properly, without the pirate in him. Blake looked at him to see if he was talking to the man who had told, or him. But when Kasper looked directly at him, there was no question as to who those blazing words were meant for. "Damn you straight to hell!" Blake blinked in shock and hurt,

"Wha? Like ye wouldn't have done the same? Ye'd rather I'd let them rape you? So sorry I interrupted something ye wanted." Ok, so that was below the belt, and the flash of pain that shone in his lover's eyes, told him that. "I didn't-"

"You were lucky, Blake!" Kasper hissed, "Did you really think ye'd stop them from raping me? God, how could ye be so stupid? Ye know how things work on this ship! At least with this cowardice gutless eel, I can understand his stupidity, but ye are a _pirate_! You _know_ how it works!"

"Hey! I am not a coward!" Finnegan exclaimed but then Kasper whipped his head to him and he grew silent and subdued.

"Ye should be grateful I haven't ripped yer throat out with me teeth, you bilge rat! Ye are on a PIRATE ship! Have ye ever heard pirates to be merciful? Or to make a deal? I mean people think ye can say 'Parley' and ye'll get taken to the cap'n, ONLY PIRATES CAN INVOKE THE RIGHT TO PARLEY! With prisoners they drop them in the middle of the ocean! And I hope they do," Suddenly Kasper lunged at the now terrified prisoner, apparently Kasper had forgotten his foot and when he put pressure on it he cried out, but that didn't stop him, and it took Blake putting his body between Finnegan and Kasper to block the ferocious glaz eyed, man.

"All right tiger, come on before ye hurt yerself further," Blake said soothingly, though he did earn a harsh glare for the tiger comment.

"I could rip his throat out with me teeth," Kasper growled, glowering at the man who had put them there.

"Oh I know, love, but that doesn't mean-" That was when Blake noticed the front of Kasper's pants were stained with blood. "What is that?" he asked, pointing to Kasper's groin.

"I would think you of all people would know perfectly well what that is," Kasper replied, flirting in order to not show his fear and anger.

"Kasper," Blake said scoldingly, much to Kasper's displeasure,

"Figgins cut it, not deep, it's not bad, just enough to break the skin, so don't fret." Kasper whispered, kissing Blake gently, they heard a grunt of disgust and they separated looking at the man in disbelief. Suddenly it was Blake that had Finnegan pressed roughly against the bars, his knee digging into Finnegan groin.

"This is yer fault! So don't ye DARE act as if it bothers ye, if we were having sex in this cage ye would not say a DAMN word, or _I _will be the one ripping yer throat out, is that clear?" Kasper raised his eyebrows when Blake turned back to him,

"If I'm the tiger what does that make you?" Blake smirked,

"Lion?" Kasper smiled,

"Your hair is bushy enough," Blake pretended to be offended but as Kasper leaned up against him, to ease the pressure on his foot, and just to be near him, Blake sighed happily and they lowered back down to the floor, this time side by side. It was odd that they were this contented considering their situation. Blake had knew it was because they were together, that was all they really needed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," Kasper whispered softly.

"Didn't mean what?" Blake replied, looking over at his lover.

"When I damned ye to hell, I damned meself to hell, I will go wherever ye go," Kasper promised. Blake leaned his head against Kasper's,

"It doesn't matter, I'll love ye still in hell," Blake claimed and Kasper kissed him softly once more. "I just hope they didn't tie up, ye hands as tight as mine," Kasper looked up at him sadly before leaning up against him lovingly.

The cry of "Land Ahoy," filled both of the men with dread and they shifted impossibly closer to each other as they heard footsteps approaching.

"Come on, boys, time for a lil' swim," Kasper attempted to put himself before Blake, but Figgins grabbed him and then Jacob grabbed Blake and suddenly Figgins pulled out his pistol and shot Finnegan in the forehead,

"Cap'n doesn't like to be in debt." Kasper almost smirked at the dead of their betrayer, but then he was shoved forward and his aching foot, burst with pain. Blake moved forward to help him, only to be jerked back by Jacob,

"Don't even tink 'bout it." Blake scowled, looking up at Kasper who looked back gratefully. This was it, they were heading off to be marooned, where they would be lucky to die quick, but it didn't matter how quickly they died, one would die first, leaving the other alone and in agony.

As Kasper hit the water, Blake heard him cry out in pain, probably from his broken foot, which had remained swollen over the past two days. After several moments, Kasper still didn't rise, and Blake tried to pull out of his captor's grasp, knowing any attempt to swim would hurt Kasper as much as any attempt to walk. The captain just laughed,

"How disappointing, I was hoping he'd at least die on the island." Blake pulled harder against Jacob's hold, looking desperately into the black waves for a sign of his lover.

"Kasper," he breathed, praying to any god that would listen that the blue eyed man he'd fallen so hard for would come out of the water. Suddenly, a head popped out of the water, coughing and panting, but Blake let out a sigh of relief, moving forward once more, more than willing to dive into the water to help Kasper.

"Blake," the captain's voice broke him out of his trance and he looked up at him. "Dis pistol only has one shot, use it well," the tone clearly meant he expected Blake to kill Kasper, and Captain Sylvester was taking pleasure in this fact. The pistol was shoved into the holster and then he was thrown unceremoniously off the ship. He quickly swam to the surface, ignoring the biting cold of the Atlantic, to find Kasper who winced and flinched as he started swimming toward him. Both ignored that the ship was sailing away as Blake swam as fast as he could to get to Kasper, not wanting his foot to be hurt more than it had to be. They both exhaled when they reached each other, their hands grabbing each other's' as they fought to stay afloat in the choppy sea.

"Put yer arms around me neck, I'll pull ye," Blake offered but Kasper shook his head.

"No, I can make it," he promised, but the whimper he made every stroke said otherwise.

"Oh for love of rum, let me help ye, please," Blake knew he was begging and it was extremely unmanly, but seeing his lover's face contort in pain at every movement, that was far worse. The problem was, Kasper was proud, too proud to even let his lover help him swim, even though no one else could see.

"I am fine," Kasper growled, swimming harder as if to prove his point, Blake growled in annoyance and grabbed Kasper's shoulders to stop him. The stubborn smaller man jerked away, moaning at the ache in his foot.

"Let me help ye, the more ye use it, the bigger the risk of infection," he paused, looking at the waves as opposed to Kasper whose countenance had softened, seeing the worry in the other's eyes. "The bigger chance ye have of dying before we can be saved. And I swear, Kas if ye die and leave me alone on this god forsaken piss of land…" Kasper smiled softly,

"Aye then, start pulling," he wrapped his arms around Blake's neck, Blake sighed in relief and started swimming once again to the island, which wasn't really that far. Kasper probably only weighed 90 pounds, plus he was helping with his good foot, the broken one dragged along behind them limply, and the lack of use alleviated the pain greatly. "I love ye," Kasper whispered, unsure whether Blake could hear him over the water hitting their faces.

"I love ye, too, ye picaroon." Kasper laughed softly, then laughed harder upon realizing he had the ability to laugh even though they were swimming to a more than likely excruciating death of heat stroke and starvation, and in his case infection.

"Pray tell what is so funny, I see nothing humorous about this," Blake asked as they felt the shore getting closer to their feet.

"I never thought I'd be ok with watching that ship sail away, leaving me on a deserted island. But I am, because, I realize, the place I thought was home, wasn't that ship… it's you." Finally they reached shore and Blake panted as Kasper crawled to be out of the surf. He'd barely gotten two feet when Blake grabbed him and pulled him into his arms,

"I'm not going to let you be in pain when I can help it." He claimed, Kasper sighed softly in annoyance but mostly in love. He leaned up and kissed Blake's neck, feeling freer than he ever had. He could kiss, touch, breathe in, make love, to his lover as often as he wanted, he laughed softly once more, it would be when he was marooned on an island that he could finally be completely happy.

"Looks like we got that island ye were talking 'bout."

Slowly though, as one day, became two, and two became four, it became clear that this was no laughing matter, they were going to die, and the pain in Kasper's foot grew more intense. Blake could do nothing but watch on in fear as Kasper gasped in pain and covered up flinches and pushed away tears. He touched the pistol at his side; it would be merciful to kill Kasper, to end what was sure to be a miserable end.

"I'm not leaving you like that, so take your hand off that gun," Kasper whispered, even though Blake had thought he was asleep. "I was actually thinking it should be the other way around, I am going to die pretty fast, now that my foot is infected, but ye will take a few more days to starve to death."

"Not a chance," Blake replied, curling up in the sand next to Kasper. "I won't leave you either," he claimed, kissing Kasper's neck and flinching violently at the fever that he felt under his lips.

"Seems we've met an impasse," Kasper said softly, his body lacking the strength to do much more. "I love ye, Blake, and don't regret ye for a single moment. And if I have to search all of hell or the universe to find ye again, I will, even if it take lifetimes." Blake buried his face further into Kasper's neck, blinking furiously to stop the tears.

"I love you too, and I will wait a 100,000 years if it means ye are mine again." Blake pulled back, looking into Kasper's glassy eyes, pausing before kissing his lips gently.

Two more days past and Blake's stomach ached in hunger and fear and desperation. Kasper could barely keep his eyes open anymore, he could barely more without screaming in pain, he was pale and on top of dying of infection, he too was starving. The only reason they'd lived this long was thanks to a small fresh water spring Blake had found on the island. No ships had passed by, and they had no means of summoning one anyway, but as Kasper faded and Blake's body started to shut down, that pistol was looking like more of a good idea.

"Blake," Kasper choked out, his eyes open but unfocused on the horizon, "Am I dying, or is that a ship?"

********* Two Years Later*******

Allison cried in panic as her ball rolled into the street. But it stopped suddenly when it hit a pair of feet-no, it was a foot and a wooden leg. Allison stared at the man, who was accompanied by another handsome man, as he leaned down to pick up the toy at his feet…foot.

"Is this yours,'Miss?" the beautiful man asked. That really was the only way to describe him.

"Yes, Sir," she admitted, holding out her arms to catch it, it sailed gracefully into her grasp and she grinned and looked up at the men. The one with both legs placed his arm gently around the other's waist, this caused Allison to stop dead. She saw the spark that flashed between them, a smile that was barely visible, a sigh that was soft and said a million things, a twinkle in their eyes that was only for the other. They reminded her of her parents when she would catch them staring at each other. She'd never seen two men look at each other like that. She shrugged and turned and ran off, never to see the two again.

_Ok so…the ending is whatever you want to make of it. The whole, cutting his… manhood off, um it happened, I'm female and I flinched when I read that. Please review! The next chapter is Sacred Band of Thebes don't know when it will be up…before July…I hope. Much love to all my readers and reviewers *heart* _


	6. Thebes

_Ok so, didn't get this out before July, but my life has been a bit caotic as of late so please forgive me. I honestly don't know how long it is going to take me to write the next one. But I PROMISE I will continue to update until my readers tell me to stop… or until I have no more stories in me. Hope you enjoy this chapter, there are more than a few historical inaccuracies I am sure, forgive me for that too. I don't own any character in here. They all belong to Ryan (who is not my favorite person these days) Thank you all so much for sticking with me. Much love_

They were not the only ones fighting viciously, they were not the only ones with blood painting their bodies, they weren't even the only ones that prayed with all their hearts that they would fall first. It was quite possibly the perfect system, an entire army made up pairs of male lovers, each and every one trained and willing to fight to the death for the man they loved. Few times had this army lost a man, but when they lost one, they also lost his lover, the lover would either fall on his own spear or get someone else to do it for him. But this opposing army was stronger than most, it was also larger, it seemed every time one fell another replaced him, and they seemed to have an unlimited amount of replacements. And they did not fight fair, their spears were far longer than the Theban's, but they refused to surrender.

Kiron barely felt when a spear head yet again ripped his skin, he did however feel it when his lover, Belen, growled in pain. Kiron looked over at him, to see a new wound just above his hip. Kiron hissed in anger and with this newfound emotion, Kiron killed the man he was fighting and then spun and disposed of the one Belen was fighting. They held each other's gaze for a moment, both sets of eyes holding love, pain, strength and determination. These men had been taught to never back down, and the way this battle was going, they're would be no men standing at the end of it.

Belen remembered vividly the first time he'd ever laid eyes on Kiron. They'd been in the training ring, both a mere 15 years old, but their muscles already defined, their voices already deepened. Belen's more than Kiron's, but no one seemed to care or notice. Kiron the best fighter of his year as well as most men older than him, he had a fire in him that exceeded what many of them had. And to think, when Kiron was first born he was nearly killed for being too small, but then he opened his mouth and let out a cry so strong and powerful that they knew, despite his size, this child would make a fine warrior.

They were paired and told to fight each other, first to cut their opponent, won. Nothing more than honor but to them, that was everything. The broader, but shorter boy approached him, studying him carefully, looking at his legs, arms, torso before settling on his face, searching for weaknesses and vulnerabilities. There were no obvious ones to be found, until Kiron mapped his body out as well. Belen was beautiful, his flesh smooth and taut against the developed lean muscles that seemed to reside on every single inch of him. His hair was cut short, but Kiron could tell it would be curly when they reached 18 and could let it grow. His eyes weren't brown, or green, or yellow, but a combination of the three. They both knew when Kiron's eyes lingered on Belen's loin cloth just a moment too long, that he had revealed his secret weakness. Belen thought he could use that, he would be wrong.

Despite his attraction to the other man, Kiron was more focused than anyone Belen had ever fought. His eyes were sharper than an eagle's, his breathing was a calm, controlled rhythm, his face was set in concentration, causing his jaw to tighten and for Belen's heart to speed up. Every movement was calculated and perfect, the pale skin that covered the exquisite muscles, stretched and bent with every smooth motion. His flexibility seemed inhuman and his strength seemed to rival the gods', blasphemous as that may be. Belen easily had 15 pounds on Kiron, but that seemed to be irrelevant as Kiron flipped in mid-air, swinging his wooden sword, gracefully. Belen didn't even know he'd been beaten until the trainer, Sevius, came over and back handed Kiron cuttingly. Kiron's head snapped to the side but he showed no other sign that anything had happened.

"You were distracted," Sevius hissed furiously. Kiron was his best, he couldn't have his best soldier distracted so easily. Kiron inhaled deeply,

"Yes, Sir," he agreed, his voice not showing an ounce of weakness, though there was a quiet respect in its place.

"And if you were distracted on the battlefield, what do you think would happen then?" Sevius yelled severely, all the others had stopped to watch and listen. Kiron never got lectured, he was too good.

"I would be killed, Sir," Kiron recited.

"Not only that, you would put your fellow brothers in danger, one man fails and the entire army fails! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," Kiron said. Suddenly and for no apparent reason, Sevius hit him once again, much harder this time, and a clinch of the jaw joined the turning of his head.

"You will go without food and sleep tonight," Sevius claimed and Belen winced inwardly, he'd somehow caused this.

"Yes, Sir," the fifteen year old replied, his face still set and as perfect as ever, though there was already the hint of a bruise. They went back to fighting, and Kiron won again and again and Belen was amazed by this man. That night as everyone else slept, Belen looked to see Kiron standing stark still in front of his bed, his eyes not moving from the wall in front of him.

"Kiron," he whispered, getting out of bed to approach his victorious opponent.

"Go back to sleep," Kiron demanded, his voice harsh even in a whisper.

"Not before I apologize," at Belen's reply, Kiron turned to him slowly.

"For what?"

"I saw how you were looking at me, and I thought I could use that against you, it didn't really work," Belen explained. A scowl appeared on Kiron's face,

"It worked perfectly, I may as well have been fighting blind folded." Belen stared at him shocked.

"_That_ was you fighting poorly? You beat me in less than two minutes!" Kiron's eyes snapped to him,

"I should have beaten you in less than one." Belen's eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"You are the best fighter within 5 years, why is less than two not good enough." Kiron looked at him, considering the question for a moment.

"I am small, Belen. My brother towers over me, I have small features, they almost disposed of me as an infant, but then I cried and they recognized something. But regardless, people don't see my ability, they see my height and my weight and they think I am weak. So I cannot earn their respect, I have to _take_ it." Belen stared at him, he knew his mouth was hanging open but he could nothing to change that. "Now, go to sleep and leave me alone," Kiron bit, but Belen was not so easily rebuked.

"In case you were interested," Belen said, "I was as distracted by you as you were by me." Kiron looked up at him, his eyes showing something other than cold, daring ice, Belen couldn't name it, but it was beautiful. "And you did not take my respect, but you have it."

The next day, Kiron performed as flawlessly as he always did, they had been trained to go without food or rest for days at a time. But there was something different about him, it wasn't physical, he still defeated every person he was put up against, it seemed to be in his very bones. He met eyes with Belen and forced back a smile, but Belen saw it and did the same. But Belen wasn't the only one who saw it; Sevius looked on in interest at the two boys who exchanged glances every chance they got. A slow smile spread on Sevius's face and he waited until training ended to call them aside.

"Sir?" Kiron asked, his voice strong and unwavering, but they could all hear the nerves behind it.

"Are you two having sexual relations with each other?" Sevius asked, getting straight to the point.

"No," Kiron replied at the same time as Belen said,

"Not yet." The boys looked at each other, Belen swallowed hard, thinking that Kiron wasn't feeling the things that Belen was feeling.

"Well when that becomes a 'yes' report to me," Sevius said, with no judgment or anger, it was an order.

"Yes Sir," was the simultaneous answer, before Sevius turned and left the boys standing alone.

"That answer doesn't mean I don't want to be more with you, I am soldier first," Kiron said, but didn't look directly a Belen.

"So am I Kiron, but that doesn't mean we aren't allowed to enjoy the pleasures of being men." Kiron looked at him slowly, Belen just looked back, raising his eyebrows slightly. Kiron licked his lips slightly before turning away again,

"When we are 18, then we can see if we still want to do this." Belen nodded, willing to take what ever he could get from this man.

Of course they didn't last three more years, they barely lasted another three months. It had happened after a fight, an angry, ferocious fight that had ended with Kiron slicing another boy, Junis's arm with the sword. Both panted as Sevius separated them, holding his hand in front of Kiron, who was still attempting to charge Junis. Belen looked at Kiron, his eyes wild with fury, as he nearly stabbed Sevius. Sevius had, had enough,

"KIRON, HALT!" he yelled, throwing Kiron to the ground. Kiron grunted at the force, but it wasn't until Sevius held his own sword against Kiron's throat, that the young man stopped struggling, but his chest was still rising and falling with the fierceness of his breathing. Junis, in an act of cowardice, took his own sword and slashed Kiron's calf. The pinned man, cried out in pain as well as anger, but Belen got to Junis first. He began fighting with a brutality that no one had seen from Belen, and several of the other trainees took a step back in surprise. Sevius looked at Belen expectedly but rose, knowing what was driving this boy to be so malicious and knew that if he didn't stop it, Junis would be killed. He grabbed Belen by the shoulders and threw him to the ground as well, next to Kiron, who was holding his leg, glaring up at Junis with venom in his eyes.

"Belen, take Kiron and get his leg bandaged, I expect both of you to report to me at sunset." Belen held out his hand for Kiron to take, but Kiron rejected the help and stood on his own. Belen looked at the man he loved or at least lusted after, as Kiron walked away from him, heading to the infirmary, he was infuriated by, fascinated by, and completely drawn in by this person.

"Kiron," Belen calls after him once they are finally out of sight of the training yard.

"That spineless bastard!" Kiron bites, not looking back at Belen, "I wounded him fair and square, and he goes and injures me when I cannot possible fight back." Belen smirks at Kiron aggressiveness, it was one of Belen's favorite thing about him.

"I don't think anyone who fights you is in a fair fight," Belen replied. Kiron spun around to ask what that was supposed to mean, but the sly smirk on Belen's lips told Kiron everything he needed to know.

"He shouldn't have been talking to you like he was. Or looking at you like he was," Kiron all but muttered.

"And how exactly was that, Kiron?" Belen knew how Junis had been looking at him, and talking to him, but he also wanted Kiron to say it.

"Like you were his, instead of mine," well, that wasn't what Belen had expected him to say and he raised his eyebrows at the possessiveness of the statement. "You know what I mean," Kiron remedied, knowing that Belen would not appreciate being treated like an object to be owned.

"Explain it, please," Belen replied, his voice a bit harsher.

"I know we said we'd wait, but that certainly doesn't mean someone else can have you," Kiron snapped. Belen turned and glared at his, using the term loosely, love.

"I am _not_ some sort of toy, Kiron. I can make up my own mind, and if I choose to flirt with someone that would actually have sex with me, I have that right." Kiron spun around to yell, but having forgotten his hurt leg, hit it wrong and was brought to his knees in pain. Belen lunged forward, forgetting his anger, and grabbing Kiron's arms, immediately Kiron jerked away, and stood once more.

"You can have sex with anyone you want. But not him," though Kiron's words gave permission, his tone certainly did not. "That ugly, tripe is not worthy of you!" his tone grew fierce again and he turned back around to continue to the infirmary.

"And who is Kiron? You? Are you the only one good enough for me?" Belen asked, the anger now returning to his voice.

"YES!" Kiron yelled, and suddenly, since the word and force in which they were said shocked both men, they were silent. They stood several minutes in tense quiet, before Belen spoke again,

"Then do something about it." That was a challenge if Kiron had ever heard it, and he certainly didn't intend on passing it up. He pulled Belen in his arms and kissed him deeply, holding him in a way that had anyone seen, they would have known he was absolutely unwilling to share. Belen grinned against the kiss, though he was only able for a moment as Kiron's tongue asked for entrance, and who was Belen to refuse.

That had been 10 year ago, and neither had strayed, they were each other's for the rest of their lives, which judging by how this battle was going, wasn't going to be much longer. Belen's spear ran smoothly through the soldier he was fighting, his eyes then searching for his next target. They found Kiron first, as always, for it was Kiron that he was fighting for as much as himself, as much as for Theban. Kiron kicked his opponent's legs out from under him and his spear sank into his chest. Then suddenly three men attacked Kiron at once, if it had been anyone else, Belen may have been concerned, but Kiron's skill as a warrior had only improved with age. And now he was taller, nearly 6 inches taller than Belen, though his voice hadn't changed much, he was still just as amazing to Belen as he was when they were 15.

Kiron used his shield to block one attack, used his foot to block another, and then stabbed the man in front of him, catching that man's spear as he fell. Then Kiron dropped his shield and with one spear in each hand jabbed to both of his sides, skewering his other two attackers. He dropped the longer spear and picked his shield back up just in time to defer another attack. When he looked back up Belen was staring at him, with nothing but pride and love on his face. Just as Belen was about to get struck, he threw the spear smoothly into his opponent's abdomen. Then every thing seemed to go in slow motion for Belen as he noticed the spear far too late to stop it. It impaled Kiron in the back, coming out of his stomach. Kiron froze for a moment before grabbed hold of the spear that was sticking out him and breaking it so that some of the weapon was still in him. He looked behind him and seeing the Macedonian who had just fatally hurt him. Then he took his own spear and sent it sailing toward him, hitting him in the face. Kiron could still fight, but the pain and blood loss was slower his reaction time, by the time Belen got to him, he had three other spears holes in him, one in his shoulder, one in his side and the other in his leg. He fell to the ground, slowly, his hands reaching out for something to grab and pull himself back up. But Belen was the only thing he could hold on to. They sunk to the ground, Kiron's head in one of Belen's hands, while Belen's other hand clutched Kiron's tightly. Belen knew it was foolish, and going against everything he had been taught to expose himself so to possible enemy attack, but in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care. Yes, the sacred Band of Thebes was the perfect army. 150 couples who dare not cause dishonor to himself in front of his lover, 150 couple who would rather die a thousand deaths than desert each other. Hundreds of them had already been demolished, Kiron was now about to join them.

"My love," Belen tried to soothe him, but it came out sounding more distressed than comforting.

"It is a beautiful thing, to die in battle." Kiron said, sounding much stronger than he looked. "Do you suppose there will be an afterlife in which we can spend eternity together?" He looked into Belen's eyes, his own eyes becoming slightly glassy and unfocused.

"Whether there is or is not, is irrelevant. No matter what happens, we will be together again. Somehow, someway, we will always be together." Belen promised, tensing as Kiron's eyes flickered shut.

"You'll always be mine. And I'll always be yours, forever." Kiron's chest stopped inflating, but other than that, the soldier, and lover, gave no other sign that he was no longer living. Belen lowered his head to meet Kiron's head, their foreheads touching. Belen didn't know why no one had killed him too, but he would remedy that quickly. But he was going to take as many Macedonians with him as he could. Life could leave the body, breaths could be halted, flesh could break and deteriorate, but when something as strong as love resides in a soul, the world is forever changed.

_Junis=Jeremiah by the way. Wish Kurt had reacted the same as Kiron, hehe. Thanks for reading, please review_


	7. Bohemian France 1900

_This one isn't my favorite. But I like the characters. I wish I'd been able to write a little more of the historical aspect of bohemian France in 1900, but… it is what it is. I don't own anyone in this story. I hope you enjoyed it. Much love to everyone who is still with me. Please review at the end._

Blaise's eyes widened as he and Wesley walked down the street that seemed to have prostitutes on both sides.

"Come on, boys, want a little fun?" one of them cooed, Blaise smirked,

"You are not my type, mon cher." The woman pouted but nodded down the street,

"He's down there." Blaise was slightly surprised that there was only one male prostitute, but he also knew he must make plenty of money, the men in the city rarely discriminated who they slept with.

"We're not actually-" Blaise began, but Wesley just shoved him forward,

"Just keep walking," he ordered. Blaise rolled his eyes, Wesley was his best friend, but the man drove him crazy sometimes.

"Thanks for the ride, beautiful," a voice hit them, full of lust and satisfaction.

"You know where to find me," came the high, seductive response. A moment later a figure stepped into their line of vision and Blaise stopped dead, staring at the man before him. Beautiful was right, he was as pale as alabaster, with gorgeous eyes that seemed to be a million different colors, he wore tight pants, showing off his assets nicely, as well as a tight, nearly see through shirt, though in the 20 degree weather of that night, that was no good. And he had a half corset around his stomach to accent his small waist, _God, he was gorgeous. _As his customer left, the man smiled softly, heading back toward the wall. He carried himself like he was a duke instead of as if he was charging men for sex. There was no shame in his stance, or his eyes, in fact he seemed to be almost bored as he leaned against the brick wall and uncaringly cleaned under his fingernails. Just then Wesley stepped on something that crunched and the man looked up, sharply, his eyes shined brightly as he smiled softly.

"Bonjour, mes beaux messieurs," he crooned and Blaise went completely weak at the knees.

"Bon-bonjour," Blaise breathed and the man must have caught his breathiness, because he smiled wider and approached them like a spider stalking her prey. But then Blaise saw it, the slight limp that wasn't coming from pain in his legs or feet, but something the man used more often.

"What can I do for you gentlemen tonight, I'm willing to do anything, but both of you together will cost you extra," he winked and Blaise wanted nothing more than to take this man back to his flat and shower him with love, something he was sure the man was rarely shown.

"We are actually not buying," Wesley said as he tugged at Blaise's shirt, but for Blaise, it wasn't that easy, this man was entrancing, seductive, and downright stunning.

"Oh," the man said, his eyes darkening slightly before he took a couple of steps back.

"We are heading to a party, care to join us?" Blaise don't know what possessed him to say it, but from the look of shock Wesley gave him, it was clearly unexpected. Then the man laughed, and if Blaise hadn't been in love before, he certainly was now. That laugh was more beautiful than the bells at Notre Dame. Then it ended as the man stared at him in disbelief,

"You're serious?" he asked, looking to Wesley who paused before shrugging a nod.

"Not as entertainment, but as my guest," Blaise suggested. The man blinked slowly, waiting for the punch-line. "I'm Blaise, this is Wesley, we are musicians," Blaise would have sworn there was a sparkle in the man's eyes at that word, but it was quickly cut off and he shook his head.

"Sorry, but I have to work, but I hope you boys have fun," he started to walk back but Blaise grabbed his arm, his body completely working on its own. Blaise half expected him to jerk away and glare at him, instead he turned back slowly, studying the stranger as if he were some odd being that he had never seen.

"What's your name?" Blaise breathed, wanting to know everything possible about this man before parting.

"A lot of my clients call me Evariste," he said alluringly, "It means 'well pleasing'" he claimed as he drug his finger down Blaise's chest and Blaise seriously considered letting Wesley go to the party alone, but then his mind returned and he took a step away and he thought he saw this man look hurt for a moment.

"No, what name did your mother give you?" Blaise asked, sounding more commanding than he felt. The man smirked,

"You're a good one, you didn't fall for that stupid line, even though some of them do call me Evariste, and I am well pleasing." His smirk widened before he continued, "My name is Kane, and I would truly love to join you and Mr. Wesley, but there are bills to pay, and they won't get paid by me partying. But thank you, and I sincerely hope to see you good gentlemen around some time," he smiled coyly and headed back to his wall as Blaise stared after him, watching every deliberate shift of his hips and bottom.

"All right, lover boy, we've got somewhere to be, and you've drooled enough," Wesley said, though he said it with a smile, leading Blaise away by his shoulders.

"Did you see him? He was… Mon Dieu, have you ever seen anything like him?" Blaise asked with a tone that Wesley had never heard the man speak before.

"Oh, Blaise, you've got it bad, and you only just met him," there was a bit of amusement in his voice, but he knew Blaise wasn't one to fall in love easily, or at all really. The musician had only been with one man and he was already 23, Wesley, who was the same age had been with probably a dozen women. In the bohemian lifestyle sexuality was embraced and explored and never something to be ashamed of as it was in England by the royals and even the peasants. But here, in beautiful Paris 1900, love was freely taken and given by others that were also in the bohemian way.

Blaise couldn't get Kane off his mind, but when he went back the next night he was nowhere to be found, and even the women that had pointed him to Kane the night before hadn't seen him. It went this way for three nights, until Blaise saw him buying bread, in the marketplace in the middle of the day. He was even more beautiful in the daylight.

"Merci, Maurice," Kane said as he turned away from the bakery and it was then that Blaise saw that, that gorgeous face had been marred by, what had been a clearly ferocious hit. His eye and cheek were bruised, though it had faded some, he still sent jolts of fury threw him like lightening.

"Kane," the name came out much harsher than he meant for it to, for his anger was certainly not directed at Kane. And he could have kicked himself when Kane flinched before looking up, but then relief flooded his eyes and Blaise could have fallen to his knees and worship this man.

"Blaise," he greeted, smiling warmly, approaching him like he was an old friend.

"Who did that?" Blaise skipped pleasantries, motioning to Kane's face and Kane chuckled,

"Mmm a man who gets straight to the point, that's what I like to see," he teased, but Blaise quickly saw it for the mask that it was, a mask he'd worn on many occasions.

"Kane," Blaise murmured softly, making it clear he meant no harm, not to Kane at least.

"You don't need to worry about it, amour, I am more than capable of taking care of myself." Kane claimed, a soft smile still on his face, "How was the party?"

"Tell me who did that to you," he demanded and Kane looked around casually before glaring back at Blaise.

"YOU don't need to concern your pretty little head with it," he snapped and pushed past Blaise, "Or with me." He called as he practically stomped away and Blaise felt terrible, he hadn't meant to make Kane angry, he just wanted to make sure he was ok, maybe being defensive wasn't the right way to go about that though.

"Merde! Zut!" he growled, kicking the dirt, and gaining the indignant glare of two upper class women. But he didn't take the time to apologize, instead he turned and followed the direction Kane had headed, refusing to give up that easily. Though he hadn't seen which direction Kane had gone it didn't take him long to find him as his unmistakable voice could be heard through an open window several windows away. The flat was on the ground level,

"Papa, I told you, I'm doing what I have to, I don't mind doing it, and if it means paying our bills, then I will continue to do it." Blaise felt guilty for peering into the window, but this person made him do lots of things he had never done before.

"Kane, your mother would be horrified, and you coming home the other night, with that," the older man, sitting in a rocking chair, motioned to Kane's face. "You think I don't notice when you limp in pain from hours of that? You think I don't see you wince when you sit after a difficult night? You are worth more than that. You could be a singer, your voice is a gift, and you are wasting it. Every time you have intercourse with men, every time you let them _use_ you like that, you are lowering your worth." Kane paused, his hands slowing their previous jobs of preparing medicine, the expression on his face could only be described as hurt. It was clear his father wasn't completely well, he was pale and looked weak.

"Lowering my worth to whom, Father? To myself? Or to you?" Kane's father, Bernard, looked like he'd just been kicked in the stomach, and Blaise rather felt that way himself. "Please don't treat me like I am some sort of sad, victim, forced to do this out of debt or desperation. Do we need money? Yes. Do men like to have sex with me? Yes." Bernard flinched at that statement, "Do I feel worthless or used? No. I am doing what has to be done, and I feel no shame for taking care of us. I'm sorry if you do, but when you got sick, we needed money right then, all I had to offer was my body, so I apologize for embarrassing you, but we are not living on the streets, so I will not apologize for earning a living." The door suddenly jerked open and Blaise stood there like an idiot, his mouth hanging open as Kane's eyes widened in surprise.

"Blaise?" He said breathlessly, "Did you follow me here?"

"I decided I wasn't going to give up on you so easily." Blaise admitted, knowing his entire face was bright red. Kane looked confused, surprised and slightly amused, "I was really hoping you'd joinmefordinner." He rushed the last part out, realizing they were still in front of Kane's father. While the man seemed to know about Kane's job, he didn't seem very approving. Suddenly Kane pushed him out the door and closed it behind him, leading then a few yards away from the house before turning back to him. Blaise looked down embarrassed, so he missed Kane's sad expression. His head jerked up at Kane's words,

"I'm a whore, Blaise, I can't even count how many men that I've had sex with, do you really want to involved in this?"

"I would very much like to be involved, and I would like to take you to dinner and find out if your mind is as beautiful as your body and spirit." Blaise replied, chuckling as Kane's mouth dropped open and his cheeks turned an enchanting red.

"Mon Dieu, I haven't blushed in years, it takes a lot to make me blush," Kane smiled, but then his smile faded and Blaise made it his mission to put it back. "But… I still have a job," Kane admitted looking him in the eyes, looking for anger or disgust, but found none. Times were hard, you did what you had to.

"What time do you start?" Kane continued to look at him like he was joking and was about to laugh at him and walk away, leaving hurt and alone.

"8." Kane whispered, only looking back at Blaise when he felt warm hands in his.

"Then I'll see you at 5, tonight?" Kane still hesitated, biting his lip anxiously,

"Ok. 5 o'clock then, meet me at the fountain in the square." Blaise nodded grinning like an idiot and Kane chuckled lightly at him, pulling his hands away, looking back once before completely leaving Blaise's sight.

"YES!" Blaise cheered, laughing at his good fortune of Kane agreeing to even be in his presence.

Five o'clock could not come fast enough and when it finally did it found Blaise pacing furiously as 5:02 turned into 5:15 and Kane was not there. Blaise ignored the burn of tears of betrayal and hurt at being stood up by Kane and he sighed heavily, regretting the thought _this is what I get for falling for a whore_ as soon has he heard his name being called.

"Blaise! Blaise, Wait!" Blaise spun around to see Kane running up, wearing pants similar to what he'd had on the night they met, but now he wore a nice dress shirt with a jacket. "I'm so sorry I'm late, I…" he paused, "got delayed."

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," he admitted quietly, but as Kane linked their fingers, smiling softly, he realized how much his worries were misplaced.

Weeks turned into months of Kane and Blaise being madly in love. Kane fit in brilliantly in the bohemian lifestyle, especially when they discovered he could sing like an angel. He still prostituted, but he always went to Blaise afterward, who would kiss away all the bad things in Kane's mind. Bernard hadn't been any happier with Blaise being a part of Kane's life as he was with the prostitution, but Kane had continued to do both.

Nearly a year into their relationship, Kane didn't come to Blaise's house one night, and he didn't come the next, and Blaise panicked. He went to Bernard's house first, of course, and was horrified to see his lover laid out on his father's bed, white as a ghost with puffy red eyes. But he was alive and to the man who loved him more than anything, and had thought for a moment that Kane was dead, that was all that mattered.

"Kane," Blaise breathed, not wanting to startled him. Kane's eyes shot over to him and a look of pain and relief flashed into the beautiful eyes that his lover possessed.

"Blaise," he whispered before launching himself into Blaise's embrace. Blaise didn't know what was wrong yet, but he could find out about that later. Kane breathed in Blaise's scent as deeply as he could, for he was safe, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to you, I had to deal with funeral arrangements and doctor visits and it's just been—"

"Funeral?" It was then for the first time that Blaise realized that Bernard wasn't there.

"His heart gave out, he'd been sick, you know. This time, his body just couldn't take it." Kane revealed, snuggling further into his lover's hold. "We were arguing, the last thing he said to me was 'I don't want you to be a whore for the rest of your life.'" Blaise could hear the hurt in his voice, "That's when he collapsed, I tried to save him, I swear I did." Kane whimpered softly as Blaise shushed him, running his fingers through his hair. "And the worse part of it is, I know he said it because he loved me, not because he hated me."

"Of course he doesn't hate you, Kane. You were the person he loved the most, everything he disapproved of, including me, was because he didn't want to see you get hurt." Kane nodded, pulling away with a soft smile, but then his face falls and he looks at Blaise.

"Am I it?" Blaise looked at him confused, his fingers still brushing Kane's hair lazily.

"What do you mean?" Kane sighed softly, feeling silly for even considering it, of course Blaise wouldn't want him for the rest of his life, he was a whore who didn't deserve someone so wonderful.

"Nothing," Kane replied, leaning deeper into Blaise's embrace, deciding that he was going to relish it as long as he could.

"No you don't, mon cher, you brought it up, now what did you mean?" Blaise wouldn't let him get away with it.

"I was just being silly," Kane claimed, but Blaise kissed him deeply and his mind melted. When they parted, Kane asked again, "Am I it? For you I mean, are you happy…with me?" Blaise stared down at his partner and wondered where he got these ideas from.

"Kane, you have been it since the moment I laid eyes on you," there was that lovely red shade on his cheeks again. "What about you?" Kane's eyes lit up and he pulled Blaise into a kiss once more.

"Of course you are." Kane admits, then his face once again fell, Blaise didn't know why, but he felt like now was the best time to ask something that had been on his mind.

"Then why don't you come with me to the country." Kane looked at him sharply, his mouth slightly opened. "We'll sell your father's flat and move out to there where we can be together, away from prying eyes and gossip. Just us." Blaise said, looking hesitate and excited at the same time.

"You must be joking," Kane breathed, "There is no way I could leave. My father's doctor bills I am still paying off from when he first got sick, now I have funeral expenses and even more doctor bills." Blaise looked heartbroken and Kane kissed him lightly, "It's not that I don't want to. God I want _nothing_ more, but I can't just leave all those debts, and I won't be able to pay them off in the country." Blaise froze as his mind went to his father, a man Blaise had sent years refusing his money. A man that would willingly give Blaise as much money as he needed, for anything.

"What if I paid off the debts?" Blaise asked, Kane looked up and immediately shook his head,

"No, this is my debt to pay, I won't accept your money, or your family's money." Blaise had told Kane a while ago why he periodically received a letter from his father, asking if he needed money, and that his family would have more than enough that he would never have to work.

"But, you don't want to prostitute, you do it because you have no other choice, well here is your other choice."

"Blaise-" Kane began but Blaise wasn't finished,

"Your father didn't want you to do it anymore, and I know a lot of this is your pride, probably all of it is, but I love you, and I intend on spending the rest of my life with you, which means, my money is your money. So please, don't let your pride keep us from being happy." Kane stared for a moment, Blaise was right, it was his pride, he'd never relied on anyone, never taken charity, never begged, borrowed, or stolen. But here was Blaise offering a way off the streets, out of Paris, out of scraping money week after week to make sure they weren't thrown in prison for debts. So Kane did what may possible have been the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, and he nodded.

"Qui, I'll do it. I'll let your father_ loan_ me money, I am paying him back." Blaise lit up, but shook his head,

"How about we just invite him out to the country and you cook for him, that will be more than repayment." Kane was about to disagree but Blaise kissed him deeply, taking his words and his breath away. His father was still dead, and he would always miss him, but for the first time in a very long time, things were looking up.

"Do you mean that?" Blaise asked, his voice shaking. Kane nodded, smiling at the prospect of true happiness for the first time in a long time.

"Wait, you're serious?" Wesley asked him, in disbelief.

"Yes, I love him, I am happy with him, happier than I have ever been. And though I've always been too proud to take my father's money, Kane's worth it. Father didn't mind at all and and we can get our fairy tale ending," Blaise was beaming, and Wesley had truly never seen him like that. He smiled slowly at his friend who continued to throw clothes into his banged up suitcase.

"Are you sure a city boy like Kane can make it in the country?" Wesley teased, knowing that Kane would be just fine, so long as he had Blaise.

"I think if you come and visit us, you'll be eating only fresh vegetable from our garden," Blaise's stomach bubbled happily at the very thought and he knew there was a ridiculous grin on his face, but he couldn't help it.

"Where is the lover now?" Wesley asked, genuinely happy for his friend.

"Clearing up all the loose ends."

An hour later as they shut the door to Bernard and Kane's old flat, Kane smiled softly.

"I thought I would never get out of this place. I never thought I'd be able to pay all my debts, I'd be stuck working the streets until I was killed or worse," he paused, looking at Blaise. "You saved my life," but Blaise shook his head.

"I did nothing of the sort, you pulled yourself out of the gutter, you may not have done the most ideal work, but you paid your debts, you didn't steal or cheat to do it. I was just fortunate to be in the right place at the right time." Kane rolled his eyes but beamed,

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, mon amour," they kissed quickly before linking hands and climbing into the horse drawn buggy Blaise had purchased. They began their life in the country, though trips into town or into the city drew some stares and whispers, they honestly didn't care. Happiness tends to do that to people. They both lived long lives, and they really did their happily ever after.

_Don't like this one all that much. I liked Kane (Kurt) and how he was never the victim, he was just doing what he had to do. But otherwise I felt like I rushed it. Please tell me what you think. Love all my readers SO much *heart* _


	8. wild west

_Yes, it took me forever, but I hope you read it and like it anyway. I LOVED writing it, especially the beginning. Hope you enjoy it too and if you didn't please review and tell me why. And if you did enjoy it, please review and tell me why. *Phone rings* "What do you mean I don't own Glee or any of its affiliates?" *Sad face*Much love to everyone who had continued reading. xoxo_

Sheriff Boone would be glad when that travelling stage show pulled back out of town, given it had just arrived and none of the actors had even got out of the coach yet, Boone just had a sinking feeling that his day was about to get infinitely worse. When things came to town, such as the circus or some kind of traveling group, the citizens got drunk and wild and Boone would spend the next week locking people in cells to sober up. The door to the coach opened and a man stepped out, and Boone's jaw dropped. He wore pants that should have been a crime, he must have had to lay down to pull them all the way up. His shirt was white, but it was loose and tucked into his pants, how the man had managed that, Boone would never know, but he would love to find out. _What the hell?_ Boone shifted nervously, it had been years since he had had thoughts like that, about anyone, let alone another man. He'd pushed them away, getting hurt by Jeremiah had walled Boone off to others, or even to the opportunities to others to get in. If he ever had a lustful thought he quickly shut it off, going back and throwing himself in his job, it was probably why he was a good sheriff, why they hadn't had a shoot out in over a year. Why only 5 men had been killed this month, before Boone became sheriff it was five a day.

Boone once again put his attention onto coach, the man was shading his eyes, Boone could see the discontentment in his eyes, his _beautiful_ eyes. He started over to them, as was custom for the sheriff to greet new arrivals. Then he heard the man speak, and it sounded like an angry snake and an angel at the same time,_ how was that possible?_

"This town had better be less… unkempt than Clayton. It's one thing to have to listen to a bunch of drunk heathens yell obscenities at you, it's quite another to be shot at." The man said as he helped one of the actresses out of the coach.

"You are just angry because that tall handsome man complemented me and not you," the actress teased.

"No, I gave up on him the moment he looked at you, if a man praises you, there is something wrong with him," the man teased back, grinning at the actress's indignant expression. The actress sighed and rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile on her face that told everyone she held no true animosity. The man then held out his hand once again for someone else, and another actress took his hand.

"Oh Kaleb, look at that handsome drink of water," the actress breathed as soon as she stepped out of the coach and Boone blushed as he realized she was referring to him. "I'd give up my religion for that man."  
>"Good God Sandra, could you act less like a back alley harlot, especially with him in hearing distance," Kaleb growled, though he seemed oblivious to the fact that Boone could hear him as well.<p>

"Back alley harlots are an eastern experience, out here they are saloon girls, which I personally think sound much more pleasant than harlot anyway." Kaleb rolled his eyes at the actress that had first stepped out.

"Rachel, why would you—" Sandra stopped, holding up her hand, "Never mind, I don't want to know." Kaleb laughed at the dark hair and darker skinned girl and motioned to Boone,

"He's all yours Honey." Boone shrunk into himself a bit before squaring his chest once more and approaching them.

"Hello, mi-ladies, sir," Boone tipped his hat, not missing how Kaleb looked at him, nodding sharply even as the girls giggled shamelessly. Boone's eyes lingered on Kaleb for a moment as he reached up to remove a suitcase from the top of the coach, with the help of the driver who was handing it down. "I'm Sheriff Boone, if you need anything, don't hesitate to give me a shout." Sandra launched herself at him,

"Hello, Sheriff, my name is Sandra Love, but you can call me Sandy. And any time you would like a private show, I'm always available." Sandra cooed, Kaleb rolled his eyes and Boone shook his head,

"How many times has a sheriff actually taken you up on that offer? Because they should be ashamed." Boone claimed, Kaleb's face snapped toward him, amazed that a man had turned down Sandra, no one turned down Sandra. She too was taken aback,

"I've never been refused, are you really telling me you aren't interested in me?" Sandra was practically slack jawed as Boone smiled softly at her.

"Yes'em, that is what I am telling you, it's nothing personal, Ma'am, I'm just a reclusive, old bachelor with no intent of sleeping with a different woman every night. But I appreciate the offer, I'm sure it's a privilege."

"Damn right it is, and you just lost your chance, Mister," Sandra growled.

"It's Sheriff, not Mister," Boone corrected and suddenly a sound that was all angel escaped Kaleb, he chuckled lightly.

"Oh you think this is funny, you prude!" Kaleb continued to laugh,

"I think it's hilarious that a man has the brains and the self-respect to not just throw himself at the first thing female that offers. And you are far from old, Sheriff," Kaleb corrected, smiling softly. Boone tipped his hat once again, this time directing it only at Kaleb, who Boone would swear had just blushed.

"You Kaleb Hankins…" Sandra began, but Kaleb just looked at her, almost as if humoring a child,

"Yes, Sandy?" Sandra's eyes narrowed dangerously and it was clear that Sandy was reserved for those who agreed to see that personal show, and not one else was allowed to call her that. But apparently Kaleb knew how to handle the fierce actress as she stormed off without another word. "I swear, Rachel, there are days I think we should have left her in Ohio," Kaleb claimed as he carried one of Rachel's hat boxes as well as his own suitcase.

"That's a terrible thing to say, Kaleb, have you ever wished you'd never met me?" Rachel asked, Kaleb grinned down at her,

"All the time." She playfully smacked him with the parasol she was carrying even as she smiled at his fake 'OW!' These two were obvious the closer of the three, more like brother and sister than just friends.

"So again, anything you need, just come find me, I'm usually in the courthouse, it's that…"

"That building that says courthouse?" Kaleb asked, it was said in jest, and Kaleb had a soft twinkle in his eyes that Boone hadn't first seen when he introduced himself.

"Uh, yeah, that building, think you actors can handle it?" Boone teased back and for a moment he thought he'd crossed a line when Kaleb's glared at him, but then a small smile appeared,

"I think I can manage, Sheriff."

"It's Boone, you can call me Boone," _He can call you Boone! No one called you Boone, the last person to call you that was Jeremiah, and we all know how that turned out._

"Have a good day, Sheriff," Kaleb nodded politely, "I hope to see you at the show, tonight." Boone's heart skipped a beat and he nodded dumbly, but Kaleb smiled coyly before starting the walk into the hotel, where they were staying. He could tell Rachel was talking furiously to Kaleb, but Kaleb was holding Boone's stare, which hadn't left him since he first laid eyes on him.

"Are you listening to me?" he heard Rachel screech, it was only then that Kaleb looked away. This was bad, really bad, how do you become smitten with someone after seeing them and talking to them for less than five minutes? How is that even possible? It not only seemed possible, it was a reality, at least on Boone's end.

Kaleb hated when they hit west towns. They were overridden with drunk cowboys who had no manners. And they did not appreciate culture at all. The east had its problems, women thought just because he was an actor that he didn't mind being groped, well he did, especially by women. But that was for him to know and those women to never find out. Rachel and Sandra knew, but they also knew there had been men killed for being caught with another man, so they kept their mouths shut around other people. But here, in this place, to be honest, he couldn't remember the name of it, but it would ever be known to Kaleb as Boone's town. The sheriff with the soft hazel eyes that seemed to almost be the color of whiskey, eyes that Kaleb was more than willing to get drunk from staring at too long. And when he'd tipped his hat he had revealed messy, loose curls and instantly Kaleb had wanted to run his hands through it. But at first he'd been cold to the sheriff, sheriffs tended to make Kaleb feel like a piece of shit, especially compared to Sandra and Rachel. He got it, he was male, they were beautiful women, but it still wasn't fun. But Boone didn't make him feel that way, if anything Boone made him feel like he was the beautiful one. _No, Kaleb, bad idea. Even if he does like you, how are either of you going to be happy seeing each other one week a year._ Kaleb sighed and finished applying his lotions, which he treasured, possibly more than his costumes.

The performance started like any other in a town like this, jeers and cheers, and bottles smashing and Kaleb wanting nothing more than to leave. But then suddenly shots were fired, into the air, not at them, though they froze all the same, as did the entire room.

"These people are here to bring a little bit of culture into our dull lives, so sit down, shut up and watch before I lock you all up until the jail rots!" It was Sheriff Boone and this was clearly something he didn't do very often as the room filled with hushed whispers of surprise and wonder. "Please continue," he said nodding to the stage. They all stood immobilized by shock before Kaleb remembered his line, though it took him a moment to look away from the sheriff who smiled softly back at him._ Shit,_ falling in love with the wrong people was something Kaleb was an expert at. The only men he ever fell for were men who couldn't possibly love him back, and he didn't see Sheriff Boone as an exception.

The show was over and Boone did something he rarely did before, he went out to the saloon, where he knew the actors would be. As soon as he entered the room quieted and every face turned to him, though there was only one he was interested in. And that one sat alone at the bar, drinking a brandy.

"Don't let me stop the fun, I'm just here to have a drink," Boone claimed and the revelry continued. So as not to look completely obvious, Boone went over and spoke to Rachel and Sandra first, charming and smiling as he had before Jeremiah. Then he headed over to the bar to a surprised Kaleb.

What was this man's goal, to make him fall completely in love with him and then torture him by taking Sandra up on her offer. Kaleb stared at him for a moment before looking back at the brandy, it too was the color of Boone's eyes.

"You were amazing tonight," Boone claimed, pointing to what Kaleb was drinking and nodding to the bartender. God, he was beautiful, Kaleb thought as Boone smiled softly at him.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Kaleb replied, studying the man that didn't seem to be deterred by his gaze; in fact, he returned it. "And thank you for calming the crowd, you didn't have to do that, we've preformed through worse than that before." Kaleb promised, gulping his brandy in an attempt to fight back the pain of knowing he could never have this man.

"Maybe you have, but that certainly doesn't mean you should have to," Boone said, "And it's Boone, not Sheriff." Kaleb looked up at him, he was smiling shyly and Kaleb felt like his heart was going to come out of his throat.

"Sheriff Boone, have you changed your mind about my offer earlier," a mildly drunk Sandra asked, putting both arms around his neck and attempting to straddle him. Kaleb sighed and downed the rest of his brandy, sitting back and waiting to be abandoned by Boone for the gorgeous woman that was currently presenting herself to him.

"Sorry, Miss Sandra, but I am still going to have to say no," Boone had a hint of a laugh to his tone and Kaleb couldn't help but smile. "Is she like this with all sheriffs?" Boone asked, looking over at Kaleb,

"It's men in general, really, but I think you are the first to ever turn her down , so she's trying extra hard for you." Kaleb became even more entranced with this man as he once again denied Sandra, gently pushing her off his lap and motioning to another man. This man was muscular and handsome, he looked like he'd be one to start a fight himself.

"Sheriff," he said as he approached, nodding politely at Kaleb, who smiled and nodded back.

"This beautiful young lady is interested in giving a private performance," Boone said, motioning to Sandra before nodding up to the man, "Is he good enough for you?" Boone asked Sandra. Sandra was eyeing up and down like a hungry lion, though, the man seemed just as starved. She climbed off of Boone and grabbed the man who grabbed her tightly,

"Thank you, sir."

Boone waved the man away, before calling,

"I still expect you to be at work at 8 tomorrow, Noah!" Noah raised his arm, unable to reply due to the lips attached to his. Boone chuckled softly, turning to Kaleb,

"So, you have no desire for Sandra Love, you can control a bunch of drunks with just a few words, what else can you do, Sheriff?" _Oh God I'm flirting, what the hell am I thinking, he's going to kill me._ Instead Boone smirked, raising an eyebrow,

"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Hankins." Then suddenly both men flushed, staring at each other, wondering if they both wanted the same thing. "Do you give private performances?" He said it so softly that Kaleb thought he had misheard, but the bright red blush on Boone's cheek told Kaleb he had been right.

"Oh," he whispered, Boone shook his head,

"Forgive me, that was completely out of line." Kaleb licked his dry lips slowly before reaching out to stop Boone who seemed to be making a run for it.

"Not usually, Sheriff Boone, but…" he hesitated, this wasn't something to take lightly, even if nothing happened but talking and drinking. Going to a person's house, particularly another man's, particularly the _sheriff's_, alone was not only scandalous, it was also dangerous.

"I have no expectations, Mr. Hankins, you are just the first person in a very long time, that I feel comfortable talking with, but I don't…" Kaleb smiled softly and Boone swore his knees vanished, but luckily his hand had found the bar and he didn't collapse.

"I like Brandy and rye; will that be made available to the performer?" Kaleb felt like he was turning bright red, but he also fought back the shyness, knowing he couldn't make it so obvious. Boone smiled softly,

"I think I can dig some out." Kaleb's heart pounded harder than he thought possible as he nodded,

"Where can I meet you, so as we don't look suspicious?"

"Did you see that small white washed house just as you came into town? It has a porch on the front," Boone asked, when Kaleb nodded he continued, "Meet me there in 20 minutes." Kaleb nodded again, his eyes darting around wildly, making sure no one saw or heard them making plans. Boone noticed the man's nervousness and got the feeling that he wasn't the only one that had been burned in the past.

Boone looked around desperately for something to make his house seem more like a home. But he was just a bachelor who rarely had guests and was hardly home himself if he could help it. Coming home to an empty house wasn't the best feeling in the world. He had two minutes before Kaleb would get there, and he had the feeling a man like Kaleb would be prompt. Sure enough exactly to the minute he said to come, there was a quiet knock on the door. Boone looked around one last time and figured it would have to do.

"Hello," Kaleb greeted nervously, a small smile on his face as he looked up through his long eyelashes, his head tucked slightly. It took Boone a moment to find his voice which this person who he believe had to be some sort of divine entity, had stolen.

"Hello," Boone replied quietly, stepping aside to allow the actor entrance. Both were blushing a little, Kaleb was biting his lower lip and Boone was pressing his lips together in a tight line. "Brandy?"

"God yes!" Kaleb said, relieved and suddenly the tension faded and they both laughed softly, "Sorry, I can recite Shakespeare in front of hundreds of people, but in situations like this, I turn into a blushing virgin." Boone laughed harder and poured the drink, holding it out to Kaleb, who accepted it gratefully, downing it in one gulp. Boone instantly refilled it, with a smirk on his face. This time, Kaleb only took a swallow, wiping the corner of his mouth before continuing. "So tell me about yourself, Sheriff," Boone grinned, knowing that Kaleb was using the word sheriff as a playful, almost pet name as opposed to a title.

"My full name is George Boone, named after my father. I was born and raised in Kentucky, until I was 16, then…" he paused, how much do you tell a stranger, even a stranger as attractive as Kaleb? "I left home and came here, worked as the bartender until the job of deputy came up, I couldn't turn that down. I'd seen so much murder and fighting and general revelry that I had to do something. I'd been at the job two weeks when the Sheriff was killed in a shooting,, so…" he motioned to himself, " I took the job, not that I really had a choice, but I have enjoyed a job where I don't have to do the proper thing of getting married and raising a family."

"What's so horrible about that?" Kaleb asked, wishing he could find someone with whom to spend his life.

"Mmm, do your parents love each other? Do they never fight and scream things at you, and tell you what a disappointment you are?" Boone asked, his eyebrow raised,

"My mother died when I was eight of cancer and my father died when I was sixteen of a weak heart, so no, they didn't fight or tell me they were disappointed in me." Kaleb replied, his gaze focusing on his hands.

"Oh damn it, I feel like a piece of cow pie," Boone murmured. Kaleb looked up at him and smiled,

"Don't feel bad, you didn't know. The thing is, I know I'll never be able to marry someone I truly love, and never be able to have children with them, and we always want what we can't have." Kaleb knew he was risking his life here. Despite the sheriff's kindness, he could very easily turn on Kaleb, out of fear or hatred.

"And who is it that you truly love?" Boone fished, needing Kaleb to say it first.

"I think we should get to know each other a little better before I start spilling things like that, Sheriff Boone." That was meant as a title and it stung a bit.

"All right, tell me about yourself then," he requested.

"Kaleb Hankins, born and raised in Ohio, I already told you my parents died, so when I was sixteen I left too, joining the travelling show that just happened to be in town that week. That was 7 years ago, I've been travelling around ever since, loving every minute of it." Kaleb paused, "except when it gets lonely, but it would take a lot to get me to quit."

"Like what?" Boone asked,

"No, it's your turn," Kaleb said. "Why did you leave your parents when you were sixteen?" Suddenly Boone grew stiff and Kaleb saw it instantly, "But first, you want to know why I've never done a private performance? Or rather, why I don't do them anymore?" Boone practically fainted in relief but he nodded, smiling softly, realizing Kaleb noticed, and cared enough to give him a break. He nodded, and Kaleb continued, "One time I was going to one, this eastern girl, named Brittany, she was sweet as she could be, but a little bit simple. I figured it wouldn't hurt to do a little dance for, quote some King Lear, I was a naïve. She practically attacked me," Boone's mouth dropped open but Kaleb chuckled, "She wrapped her legs around my waist and pinned me to the wall. Thank God I have strong arms and was able to pull her off. But I fully believe she would have had her way with me." Boone laughed,

"Are you serious?" Kaleb nodded,

"I got out of there as fast as I could."

Soon the two men were laughing and talking like old friends catching up, though sexuality never came up, they had both figured it out, but neither said anything. Eventually they were both drunk, giggling and hiccupping like teenagers who had never had a drink before.

"I told Noah he had to be at work at 8, never said I had to," Boone slurred, laughing as he leaned over toward Kaleb, both stumbling. Boone tripped and landed in Kaleb's arms, "Oops," Boone chuckled. Kaleb stared at him, unknowingly licking his lips.

"Boone, how drunk are you?" Kaleb asked, Boone paused before looking into Kaleb's eyes,

"Drunk enough to do this," he claimed before kissing Kaleb. It wasn't harsh or desperate, it was soft and chaste. They pulled away, both breathing slightly hard,

"Are you drunk enough to do more?" Kaleb asked in a whisper. Boone nodded and the next moment they were a jumble of sheets, arms, legs and lips touching everywhere they could reach. The heat of skin against skin caused both men to shiver, neither had been in this situation in a very long time. Clothes were stripped and discarded, hands searched and found and then began searching again. Groans, sighs and gasps filled the room, after a moment they were in the position for the most intimate experience and Kaleb's hand carefully and gently trailed down Boone's chest.

"Now, Kaleb," Boone panted, "get in me now," he begged. Kaleb nodded, kissing Boone's neck, his hand detaching from Boone's stomach to go to his mouth. Boone wetting the fingers dutifully so that Kaleb could prepare him, something Jeremiah had never done, Boone remembered. It only took a couple of minutes and with only spit as lubricate before Kaleb was buried deep in Boone. Both men moaning and gasping, Boone threw his head down between his shoulders and Kaleb threw his head back, his mouth open in pleasure. He stood motionless for a moment, refusing to hurt Boone any more than necessary. Boone grunted before reaching back and grabbing Kaleb's hip, pushing him back, trying to get his message through. Kaleb looked down at him, just to be sure and just as he did, Boone growled,

"Move, damn it!"

"Now that is not talk proper for a sheriff," Kaleb teased, as he rocked gently, Boone arched his back, mewling softly at the sensation. Then Kaleb pulled out and thrust forward and Boone cried out in gratification as Kaleb it that sweet spot in him on the first try. Boone looked back at him, wondering how he'd gotten so lucky to get the chance to be with this person, even if it was just one night.

Kaleb blinked slowly as his eyes opened the next morning. The sun was barely up, and he knew it would be past 6am. It took him a moment to realize that Boone was still wrapped in his arms. He licked his lips hesitantly, not knowing whether last night was a one time thing that would never be mention or even thought of again, or if… Kaleb couldn't bear to think that it was more, only to be disappointed. Part of him wondered if he should leave, get out before Boone woke up and kicked him out. But the curly haired man next to him was warm and soft and he couldn't force his body to end its joy at the moment. A soft moan alerted Kaleb to Boone's consciousness and he considered pulling away, but Boone's arms covered his and kept them firmly wrapped around Boone's waist. Kaleb smiled and snuggled deeper into the embrace, playfully tickling the nape of Boone's neck with his nose. Boone chuckled and turned around, still not coming out his arms.

"Morning," Kaleb said shyly. Boone smiled widely and kissed his lips lightly,

"Good morning, beautiful." Kaleb grinned and pulled Boone in for a deeper kiss, both smiling as their lips danced. "So you don't want this to be a one time thing?" Boone asked as he laid his head on the pillow, looking at the man in his bed.

"No, I want this to become a very permanent thing," Kaleb declared. Boone beamed,

"Good."

They parted, Boone going to the courthouse and Kaleb going back to the hotel, ignoring Rachel's raised eyebrow. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide it from her for long, but he at least wanted to change clothes before he was questioned.

"Ok, tell me everything," Rachel said, jumping on the bed in Kaleb's room as Kaleb applied lotion to his face. He rolled his eyes but then looked over at Rachel grinning,

"He is gorgeous, and sweet and great in bed." Rachel moaned in jealously,

"I'm so envious!" Kaleb chuckled, "So how'd you ditch the sheriff?" Kaleb's head snapped to her, she didn't know it was Boone, he inhaled sharply and turned back to his vanity. "Oh MY GOD!" she screamed, Kaleb lunged at her, clapping his hand over her mouth.

"Jesus Christ, don't tell the entire hotel," he hissed.

"Tell the hotel what?" Sandra asked as she walked into the room. Kaleb moaned as Rachel squealed,

"Kaleb had relations with Sheriff Boone!" Kaleb glared at her, Sandra smirked,

"Knew it had to be something like that, no woman lusting man says 'no' to this." She motioned to herself, sitting on the bed.

"I see you're in the same clothes you were in last night; did you and Noah have a good night?" Sandra groaned,

"That man, I've never met a man with his endurance, and he was amazing. It's been a while since I've had that good." Kaleb chuckled,

"Happy to say, I can say the same."

As they walked around the town that day, Kaleb was beaming, brighter than either girl had seen in a while.

"Damn, boy, if getting laid was all it takes to make you this happy I would have hired someone a long time ago," Sandra said. Kaleb rolled his eyes,

"It's not the sex you idiot, it's the fact that Boone didn't treat me like I had caused him to commit this horrible sin. He wants to see me again," Rachel smiled, wrapping her hands around Kaleb's forearm.

"I'm happy for you, K," Kaleb smiled at her and kissed her hair. They were walking past the saloon when Noah and Boone spotted them.

"Sandra," Noah called, smiling. Kaleb looked up at Boone who was smiling coyly,

"Hello, Kaleb."

"Afternoon Boone," Noah and Boone looked at each other and nodded, before walking up to the actors.

"Care to go on a walk with me?" Noah asked Sandra, she looked taken aback, but Kaleb nudged her gently and nodded. She took Noah's arm,

"I'd be delighted." Noah paused before holding his other arm out to Rachel who grinned and took it, winking at Kaleb who smirked as they walked away.

"How bad is your hangover?" Kaleb asked Boone.

"Bad," Boone replied as both men chuckled.

"I feel like someone is trying to put it in a coffee grinder." Kaleb replied, "But I've actually never felt better." He looked down hesitantly, still not sure if that mornings sentiments still stood.

"Me either," Boone said, wiping the fear away.

"Care to join me for a walk good sir?" Kaleb asked, Boone smiled and nodded,

"Forgive me for not taking your arm, I'm not that brave." Kaleb agreed, smiling anyway, "Maybe one day, what do you think men like us can walk down the street arm and arm without fear?"

"I'm going to say, not in this decade." They walked close enough to be able to feel each other but not close enough to touch and draw attention.

"So you deserve the answer to the question you asked last night, about why I left home when I was sixteen,"

"You don't have to tell me that, I was out of line." Kaleb told him, but Boone shook his head,

"No, you were honest with me, I am going to do the same." Kaleb hesitated but nodded, waiting for Boone to tell him. "I was fifteen when I met Jeremiah, I fell in love with him, and he with me, or at least I thought so at the time. He was a bit older than me, nearly five years, and we kept it a secret for a while, but then I decided I wanted to be with him forever." Kaleb could hear the anger at himself in Boone's voice, he wanted nothing more than to take his hand, but he refrained. "We were going to tell my parents that we were in love, then we were going to run off and be together for the rest of our lives. God I was so stupid," Boone growled,

"Young, there's a difference." Kaleb corrected him, not willing to listen to this amazing person degrade himself.

"So I was going to tell my parents, but he got to them first, only he didn't tell them we were in love, he told them I forced myself on him." Kaleb gasped softly, "They told me I was dead to them and was never to come home, so I left, ended up nearly dying of heat stroke before a stage coach found me passed out on the side of the road being pecked at by buzzards." Boone let out a soft laugh, "Best thing that ever happened to me." He looked meaningfully at Kaleb who blushed and smiled. "So now that that's out in the open,"

"What are the chances I get to see you more than a couple weeks out of the year?" Kaleb finished.

"Not great," Boone agreed, both men feeling and looking crushed. Being together all the time meant talk, meant possible death, or it meant leaving civilization to be together…

Five years had passed and Boone found himself looking up once again at the naked form of his lover as he walked unashamed back into the room. The couple only spent 2 weeks a year together, but somehow it as enough. Just to know they were loved by another person on the planet, whether that person was next to them every night or not.

"Enjoying the view, Sheriff?" Kaleb teased saying it in that seductive voice he knew Boone couldn't resist.

"Very much," Boone admitted, grinning cheekily. Kaleb chuckled and shook his head, unsure of how he'd managed to keep this man interested in him. "I need to tell you something," Boone murmured softly as Kaleb climbed back under the sheets. Kaleb felt like he was going to vomit, he knew it had been too good to be true, people like him didn't get their happy ending.

"Ok," Kaleb agreed, submitting to his fate.

"I don't want you to think too far into what I'm about to tell you, so don't panic, promise," Boone pleaded. Kaleb paused, looking hard at Boone, trying to see what his love was about to say without him having to say it.

"All right," he claimed, not sure what he was agreeing to.

"I wrote my will," Kaleb stared at him, he hadn't been expecting that. Boone was only 30, why he was worrying about something like that now? "I'm not expecting to die any time soon, I just, want to be sure that if something were to happen, I can make sure someone I trust finds it."

"Boone," Kaleb whispered, looking down at his hands.

"No, I need to say this, I need you to listen. I know Noah would be trustworthy, but he would give in to easily to anyone else who told him to change the will. And I promise you, there will be people who don't like who I left the majority of my things to, but I don't care, it's done and I won't change it." Kaleb wanted so badly to ask who he'd left so much to, who was that important to him.

"Ok,"

"It's in this trick brick," Boone stood, walking as naked as the day he was born to his fireplace, pulling one of the bricks out and showing Kaleb the hollowed out rock with a piece of paper inside it. "I made it myself," Boone said proudly, causing Kaleb to grin. Boone was far too hard on himself, something he suspected the handsome man had gotten from his parents lack of approval. "I'm not going to tell anyone else, only you, so if something should happen to me, I'll make sure Noah knows that no one but you can get it." Kaleb didn't say anything, the thought of Boone writing a will, thinking that he would die if not soon at least before he was old and gray, sent chills down Kaleb's spine. They shouldn't work, Kaleb and Boone, two men in an western town, full of people who not only looked down upon that kind of behavior, but often killed because of it. Of course they had no idea what really went on between the two, most assumed they were only friends, some had suspicions, but then they would see Kaleb with his arm around Rachel's waist, kissing her lightly on the cheek and they couldn't quite figure it out. But the two men were happy, happier than either had been in a very long time. More alive than either had been since before they could remember, it was love, and no one could have convinced them otherwise.

11 more years passed, Boone was 41 and Kaleb was 39, and they still spent two weeks a year together and they had just arrived in Boone's town. This time, Rachel and Kurt arrived without Sandra, she had died of syphilis a few years before and a new girl had replaced her, Melissa. A girl with a powerful singing voice and a wit to match. They had gotten there a day early, so Kaleb was going to surprise Boone, It had been the same for the past 16 years, Boone was always there waiting for them, a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes, a shine that was only for Kaleb. So when Kaleb stepped out of the stage coach, he felt something was wrong, he knew it was just because Boone wasn't there, but it was almost as if he wouldn't have been there anyway, even if they had come when they were scheduled. He looked up the street to the courthouse, trying to shake off the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. But then he couldn't,

"Rachel, I'll be back," he barely whispered before he headed to the courthouse. Rachel watched him go, wondering just what had the pale man in such a hurry. She knew he missed Boone, but he would always help them get the luggage down before leaving. But she just let him go, there had been something about his face that told her to just let him be.

Kaleb would have been running if he hadn't known how much attention that would have gained him, so instead he lengthened his stride and quickened his pace, his heart hammering his rib cage.

"Boone!" he called as he entered the building, praying to God that a familiar voice replied a surprised "Kaleb!" followed by a long kiss, provided they were alone. But the answer to that prayer was 'no'.

"Kaleb?" the voice was surprised, and it was familiar, but it wasn't the one he was hoping for.

"Noah, where is Boone?" Kaleb heard the hesitation in his own voice, he heard the desperate hope that Boone was just out on a disturbance at the saloon, or that there was something happening outside the town limits that required the sheriff's presense.

"You are early, I wasn't expecting the stage until tomorrow," Noah explained, and there was his own hesitation that was as clear as if he said, 'there something I have to tell you that I really don't want to'.

"Where is he?" Kaleb asked, demanding that Noah not side step the subject.

"Kaleb…" Noah said, softly, almost coddling.

"WHERE IS HE, NOAH?" Kaleb screamed, glaring fiercely at Noah.

"He's at Jenkin's hill," Noah admitted and Kaleb felt every bit of air in his lungs vanish, he felt every piece of his heart as it shattered. Jenkin's Hill was a graveyard.

"How? When?" Kaleb whispered, part of him not wanting to know.

"Five months ago, there was a shoot-out, he was protecting a kid who had gotten in with a group of cowboys. It was instant," Noah said, as if that would lessen the pain. Kaleb blinked slowly, looking at Noah and for the first time his eyes fell on the sheriff's badge that adorned the former deputy's chest.

"Is that his?" Kaleb's voice was tight, though he knew he would never cry in front of Noah.

"No, he was buried with his." Kaleb nodded slowly, "Boone told me you knew where his will was, you are the only one, we can't do anything with any of his things without it. Or rather, I won't do anything without it." Kaleb once again nodded,

"I can bring it to you by the end of the day, just… I have to…" he couldn't explain, not without falling to his knees crying. Noah nodded, clearly understanding.

A few minutes later Kaleb stared at the stone as if he stared long and hard enough, it would somehow change and the name on the tombstone would no longer be the only man Kaleb had ever truly loved.

_George Thomas Boone_

_February 5 1854_

_September 13, 1895_

Kaleb inhaled deeply before exhaling a soft sob and letting the tear fall uninhibited, there was no one around, no one would come up here, so he laid down on the ground next to the grave, staring at the still slightly raised grass.

"I don't think I ever told you how much I loved you. We said it, but… guess it's just not manly to spill your guts to someone," Kaleb said, speaking as if he were once again in bed with his lover. "Especially about love," Kaleb swallowed as tears trickled into the ground beneath him. "Well there is no one here, and I am going to tell you how much I wish that everyday I could have been with you. I wish we could have spent every waking and sleeping hour together. I wish we hadn't had to hide, I wish you hadn't died, I wish I had been able to quit the stage and come home, to you. I wish we could have grown old together, gotten a small house way outside town and just… been together. I will spend eternity searching for you, I swear to you, somehow we will be together again."

Going into Boone's house without him nearly killed Kaleb, every step was painful as every corner of that house had a memory attached. He let out a shaky breath as he walked to the fireplace, which was not far from the bed. Kaleb choked on his tears, forcing them back down his throat, the bed. The place they made love and told each other their secrets, and just held each other, it was the one place they were safe, where no one could touch them. He pulled out the trick brick and looked into it. The word 'Kaleb' was written on a piece of paper inside. He pulled it out, realizing it was actually over the will. It was Boone's hand writing, Kaleb swallowed hard as he unfolded the paper carefully.

Kaleb,

I really hope this is something you never lay eyes on, because it means I'm dead. I am so sorry, I hope we got to spend at least a few more years together. I wanted to grow old with you, I never told you that, but I was hoping to spend the rest of my life with you. Guess I did in a way. I hope you know how much I love you, how you make me feel important, like I am somehow worthy of love, something I was never sure of before. No one is worthy of you, love, and I am amazed you kept coming back.

I am writing this because if I die I know the people of the town will not want you to have everything I left to you, which is almost everything. I didn't leave you the house, because I know you'd never be able to live here without me. But all my money is yours, never told you this, but my parents died a year ago and left me their money, and they were quite wealthy. I want you to do whatever you want to with it. Don't feel obligated to anyone. If you want to use it to buy the most outlandish costume of all time, you do it. If you want to burn it, that's fine too. I just want you to be happy, even without me, because you deserve it. You've made me happier than I knew I could be. Thank you. I will always love you, forever.

All my love,

Sheriff Boone.

January 18, 1884

Kaleb smiled passed his tears at the ending, Sheriff Boone, a pet name that Kaleb called him when he was feeling particularly frisky. Kaleb stared at the date, eleven years ago, he had felt that way about Kaleb all that time. He reread the letter, letting it sink in that Boone had left him pretty much all his possessions. And Boone was right, Kaleb would have never been able to live in the house without him. He took the will out next, it was officially sealed, so Kaleb took it to Noah.

"Can I tell you something?" Noah asked as he took the old, worn piece of paper. Kaleb looked up at him, waiting expectantly, "I how close you and Boone were, I know you were in love with each other." Kaleb's eyes widened and he tensed, ready to make a run for it if he had to. "And I wanted to thank you," Kaleb paused looking at him confused. "He was so different after he met you, it was like a different person, a better person. He was happy, he laughed, he had a lust for life, something I hadn't seen in him since I met him 5 years before you. He was 18 when he became sheriff, 20 when I became his deputy, and never once in all that time did I hear him sing or whistle. Literally the day after he met you and he was singing like a damn canary." Kaleb chuckled lightly, he loved listening to Boone sing, he had a breath taking voice, along with several other things that let Kaleb breathless, though those were things he couldn't tell Noah about. "I swear it was like you brought him to life, and while men loving men isn't something I'm interested in, I also think that it is just as real as a man and a woman. At least what you and Boone had was. Now my lips are sealed, so you'll never have to worry about coming back to this town and being harassed."

"I don't think I can come back," Kaleb spoke for the first time since entering the courthouse. "It's Boone's town, not that I don't respect and think a lot of you, it's just…too many memories." Noah nodded, understandingly as he ripped open the will. He glanced down at it, not saying anything, but he was apparently at least a little surprised by how much Kaleb had been left. But he smiled as he looked up at Kaleb,

"I now know why he only told you, the Marshall would have never let you have all this, he would claim it belonged to the town. But I am not the Marshall, so I am going by Boone's wishes, with this amount of money though, you could by the Marshall and the whole damn town, the county too."

"What? How much….?" Noah held up the will and Kaleb's mouth dropped open, 35,000 dollars. "That's in dollars?" Kaleb croaked staring at the three zeros. He paused, "I'm want to give 5,000 to the town, and 5,000 to you personally." It was Noah's turn for stare shocked, his own mouth falling open.

"Kaleb, he left this to you," Noah stuttered, but Kaleb smiled gently at him.

"And I think he would want me to do what I wanted to with it." Kaleb didn't tell him about the letter. "And I want to give you 5,000 and the town 5,000, don't argue," he said as Noah opened his mouth to debate once more. Noah sighed,

"Only a man as stubborn as Boone could put up with you as long as he did." Kaleb smirked triumphantly and nodded sternly, Noah smirked and shook his head.

There was argument from the Marshall and several members of the town, but Noah clearly had the seniority and they all quieted quickly. Kaleb bought a horse and waved goodbye to Rachel and Melissa, both wiping their eyes as they waved back. He rode the horse up to Noah, holding out his hand to be shaken,

"Thank you, Noah, for everything." Noah nodded and shook the hand firmly, "You are good sheriff, not as good as Boone, but," Noah laughed.

"Those boots are just a bit too big for me to fill, but I will do my best."

"I know you will, so did Boone."

"Good luck, Kaleb, I wish all the happiness you can have without him," Noah said. Kaleb's face fell but he nodded gratefully. Happiness was no longer an option of the man without his soul-mate. He would have to settle for contentment. And he was. He spent the rest of his life in a small one room cabin on the prairie, he grew his own vegetables and hunted his own meat. When he died at the age of 63, it took several months for travelers to come across his house. The found his decaying remains on the kitchen table, lying as if he had fallen asleep on it. There was nothing of any great value in the house, nothing that could be sold or really traded. So they buried him in his yard and buried the house down in case of infection. People forgot a man named Kaleb Hankins lived. People of the town forgot that he had 25,000 dollars. There was nothing of great consequence in his life that would have him in the history books. But for 16 years, he was another man's entire world, and sometimes that's as good as anyone gets. And that's the best one can have.

_Hmmm, haven't decided how I feel about the ending, would love to hear any thoughts you wish to give. Next chapter should be hippy/Vietnam war fic…but we'll see._


	9. the 1960's

_*****__Waving white flag* I love you all and I am SO sorry this story took me so long to update. It hated me and I hated it. But I hope you enjoy it. If the beginning doesn't really match the ending it is because I was in two VERY different moods when I was writing them. The 60's slang was extremely hard to write without sounding cheesy (not sure I pulled it off). And I had planned to get them stoned, but that didn't work out. There is smut in here just telling you, be prepared. And violence, though nongraphic. I still don't own anything but the names._

**"1…2…3…4… We don't want your fucking war!"** The group of about 200 students yelled angrily into the air. Kieran didn't want to be noticed, he had just wanted to go for a walk and being in the middle of a protest wasn't on his agenda.

_"Hey, hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today_?" This was being cried a few feet away by a group that weren't students, but rather hippies. Kieran sighed, he would have to cross in front of them to get to the library, this just was not his day. He looked straight ahead, hoping no one would say anything,

"Hey, check out the square." Kieran heard the several people laugh and he knew it had to be directed at him. He sighed heavily and ignored them, fighting to not roll his eyes and get into trouble. He continued walking, sensing that they weren't going to give up that easily.

"He looks like a yuppie if I've ever seen one," another one claimed. Most of them were still chanting, but some had quieted to turn their attention to him.

"Be cool," a third voice said, "He looks pretty groovy to me." Kieran looked at his jeerers for the first time and suddenly every comeback he had vanished. One of them was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life. He had long curly hair, down to his shoulders, he was fairly clean shaven with a soft smile on his lips.

"Ooh, Beau's in love," one of the others, an Asian boy, said, chuckling lightly. Beau looked at him lazily before turning back to Kieran, who hadn't moved, so Beau took it as the opportunity to approach him.

"My name's Beau, what's yours?" Kieran studied him for a minute, before accepting the hand that was being offered,

"Kieran." It wasn't often guys showed interest in him, so he would take what he could get, though he felt the man in front of him was out of his league. Beau smiled warmly and nodded over his shoulder,

"Those cats over there are Wesley and David, don't listen to them, they're just jealous a choice guy like you would walk anywhere near them." Wesley and David rolled their eyes, but Kieran saw the affection and knew there was no real anger. "So tell me, where are you going in such a rush?" Kieran stared at him in slight shock, 'choice'? He was choice?

"Uh-" Since when did he ever have a problem speaking? Who was this boy and why did his mind go a little fuzzy when he looked at him with those beautiful hazel eyes. "Library," Kieran managed to get out, rather proud of himself for not sounding as bumbling as he felt.

"Rad, mind if I scope out the scene with you?" Beau asked, Kieran knew by this point he must be looking stupid as he once again started at the boy in front of him with his jaw slightly dropped.

"Sure, I don't care, so long as you let me study," Kieran agreed, unsure whether his brain knew what his mouth was saying.

"Far out, let me just tell Wesley and David," Beau reported as he ran back to his friends. Kieran shook his head, he must be out of his mind to let this _hippie_ follow him to the library, where he needed to study for the test he had tomorrow. But there was something about him, it was as if something was pulling them together and Kieran couldn't say no. "All right, let's bail," Beau said as he rejoined Kieran, smiling charmingly, Kieran smirked, though it was more in amusement than the fact that the charm was working.

Once they got to the library, Beau helped Kieran carry the several books he had to get, laying them on the table.

"You're studying for a medical school test?" Beau asked, noticing the topic of the books.

"Well we can't all be hippies for the rest of our lives," Kieran replied, but as he looked up at Beau with a sweet smile, Beau realized he was just teasing.

"I don't plan to be one forever, though I do think the Man has way too much control and I think we should pull out of Nam, I want to be musician," Beau said, sitting down next to Kieran, and despite the closeness considering they had met five minutes before, neither was uncomfortable.

"Oh so you just want to be a clean hippie," Kieran answered, chuckling lightly. Beau rolled his eyes,

"Hater."

"I'm not a hater, I fully support the cause, I just think there is a better way to do it," Kieran explained, opening the book titled 'Human Anatomy'. "I notice your English gets better when you aren't around your friends," Kieran pointed out. Beau shrugged,

"I was raised in a wealthy suburban family, my mother is a housewife, my father is a…" Beau stopped, catching himself before revealing his secret. "Anyway, I was raised in a 'yes ma'am,' 'no ma'am' world, so when I'm not with them, I speak like I used to." Kieran nodded, smiling softly, he liked this guy, he seemed to have a head on him that hadn't been completely destroyed by drugs.

"What about you? You didn't enlist or get drafted, you get out of that by going to college?" Beau asked, Kieran shook his head,

"I just didn't get drafted, thank God, I think my dad would flip out." Beau chuckled at Kieran's use of slang,

"Hmm, for someone who seems such a square, apparently you do know our ways." Kieran laughed,

"Slip of the tongue."

"Your Dad a pacifist?"

"No, he's actually pro-war, I'm just all he has left, my mom died when I was little."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Beau said, and Kieran was honestly surprised at how genuine he sounded.

"You lose a parent? Usually only people who know what it's like can manage to sound as sympathetic as you just did."

"They are still physically alive, but when they kick you out on your ass without a dime, they don't really count anymore, you dig?" Kieran nodded, seeing the hurt in the boy's eyes as though it was recent.

"Why did they kick you out? Because you're a hippie?" Beau laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

"More complicated than that, being a hippie apparently 'made me a queer'," Kieran looked at him his eyes only widening slightly before looking back down at the book in front of him.

"That's terrible, I can't imagine how much harder it would be if my father had kicked me out when I told him," Beau's eyes lit up at Kieran's admission, he hadn't misjudged this gorgeous man.

"Your dad's down with it?" Beau asked, leaning forwards slightly, taking in as much of this person as he could.

"Yeah, not the easiest thing in the world for him, but he tries, which, obviously doesn't always happen," Kieran said apologetically. Beau shrugged,

"You get over it," he claimed.

"It's their lost," Kieran smiled, warmly and the butterflies in Beau's stomach flapped harder. What were the chances of meeting someone he could actually have a relationship with because he happened to be protesting near a library that this man needed to go to. A moment passed before it appeared Kieran realized what he'd said and how it may have been inappropriate considering they had barely known each other thirty minutes. But as Beau nervously reached out to move a piece of paper at the same moment that Kieran reached for the paper and their fingers touched. Both men gasped softly and pulled away before smiling shyly at the other, Kieran bit his lower lip,

"If you're going to stay here, make yourself useful and find a book for me, would you?" Beau smiled, this was just the beginning of something amazing, he could just feel it.

Kieran couldn't quite understand what it was about the hemp-wearing, peace sign painting, long, curly haired hippie that intrigued him so. Kieran wasn't one to protest, or do drugs, or have sex with a boy after meeting him the week before; maybe it was the draft card, he'd received a day after meeting him feeling particularly heavy in his pocket. Whatever it was, he knew it was completely out of character to allow this boy, to lead him to a local carnival, on a _date_. And Beau wasn't one that was afraid of a little PDA, and he hardly let go of Kieran's hand, and would lean in, unashamed for light kisses, and some heavy kisses in abandoned corners. And as much as Kieran would have like to have a bit of self-control about the situation, it was as if something stronger than them was bringing them, more like shoving them, together.

"Beau," Kieran breathed as Beau sucked what was sure to be a hickey on his neck. He could tell from the uncomfortable tightness of his pants as well as the hardness of Beau's groin that if they continued like this, they would both be arrested for indecent exposure.

"Hmm," Beau hummed, not detaching his lips from Kieran's neck, nor his hand from the front of his tented pants.

"If you don't stop, I am going to let you fuck me right here and then we are going to spend the night in jail." Beau pulled away, grinning mischievously,

"Jail's not so bad, you barely notice the smell once you get used to it." Kieran chuckled as he pushed him away lightly,

"I am not spending the night in jail, although, maybe we could get them to give us a cell to ourselves." Kieran grinned, playfully, but moved gracefully out of the way as Beau lunged for him again. "No, Beau, not here, tonight, once we get back to your place, absolutely." He bit his bottom lip hesitantly, "But I have to tell you something first." Beau's eyes softened from the lust darkened they had been, and he gently used his hand to force Kieran to look at him.

"Anything, you know that," Beau claimed, but he noticed Kieran swallow hard and he began to worry. They had never promised monogamy to each other, after all, they'd only known each other a week, despite the speed at which they'd advanced their relationship, but Beau's stomach twisted at the thought of Kieran with someone else. Or maybe he was being forced to be with someone else, he'd never met Kieran's father, and from what he'd been told, Mr. Henderson was a great man, so it didn't seem likely that he would force Kieran to marry a girl. Several other scenario's crossed Beau's mind, but none came close to the horror of Kieran pulling out his draft card.

"No," Beau said, shaking his head in a panic, taking a step back. "I thought because you were in school-"

"So did I," Kieran admitted, looking at the card in his hand, trying not to show the hurt that he'd felt when Beau had backed away. But then just as quickly as he had moved away he had wrapped his arms back around Kieran's waist, pulling them close together, their foreheads touching.

"It's not fair, I want to spend every day for the rest of my life with you," Beau whispered.

"How can you possibly know that after one week?" Kieran needed the answer to the question he'd been asking himself since the day they met.

"Sometimes it doesn't need to make sense, sometimes you just know," Beau explained and Kieran kissed his lips deeply.

"Will you wait for me? I don't leave for a couple of weeks, but I need to know if you will wait," Kieran practically begged.

"Nothing could stop me from being with you again, not years, or decades, or death," Beau wasn't willing to disillusion either of them, death was an extreme possibility.

"Not even another guy," Kieran asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing how charming and gorgeous his lover was.

"_Especially_ not another guy," Beau claimed, kissing him once more. "No matter what, Kieran, we will be together again, it may be in the another plane, but it will happen again, because I'll never quit looking." Kieran let out a soft noise that could have been a sob or a laugh, Beau wasn't sure, but with Kieran's arms wrapped tightly around him, he didn't think much further into it.

They spent the rest of the evening refusing to move more than a foot from each other, and contact was never broken.

"Hey!" Beau cried, grinning, "I have an idea," he pulled Kieran over to a photo booth. Kieran chuckled,

"All right, two goofy, two serious." Beau shook his head, putting two quarter in the slot,

"No, no seriousness right now." Kieran nodded, squeezing Beau's hand as he was pulled into the booth, closing the curtain. Almost immediately the camera took, but what it took was Kieran kissing Beau's hand. Then Beau kissed Kieran's lips, before they separated, grinning at each other and the camera clicked again. Then they did silly faces, Kieran sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes, while Beau made a face that made him look like monkey. The boys practically fell out of the booth laughing happily. Both grinned at the pictures of themselves and after a moment Beau tore the picture in half so that two were in one hand and the other two were in the other.

"Which do you want?" Beau asked, smiling softly, offering both sets to Kieran. After a moment he took the picture of them kissing as well as the one where he was kissing Beau's hand. Beau stuck his bottom lip out,

"I wanted those," he teased, Kieran grinned.

"Shouldn't have offered me first pick them," he stuck out his tongue. "I'll make you a deal," Beau cocked his eyebrow waiting, "We'll switch when we see each other again." Beau's face fell only slightly but he stuck out his hand,

"Deal."

-Smutsmutsmutsmutsmut- you've been warned.

Moans and gasped filled the room, their hands grabbed, rubbed and touched, their lips sucked and grazed. Beau couldn't close his eyes, he couldn't look away from this man who had taken his heart so quickly that he was still trying to catch his breath. This would be the last time they were together for a while, Kieran was heading to boot camp the next day. Beau whimpered at the thought of losing him, of never seeing his face again, or never smelling the mixture of sweet and musk that was so intoxicating.

"I love you," he found himself muttering as Kieran expertly stroked him. Kieran looked at him, slightly surprised and slightly hopeful,

"Do you mean that, or are just saying that because I have your cock in my hand." Beau let out a breathy moan,

"I mean it—_ah_- I think I've known it since you told me to make myself useful at the library. _Shit-god in heaven." _Kieran laughed softly,

"I like seeing you like this, I'll miss this." Beau met his eyes and leaned forward to kiss him deeply,

"I'll miss you." Kieran moaned and let go of Beau's dick in order to grab the back of his neck and pull him closer. He then flipped them over so that Beau was on top, not breaking the kiss and ignoring Beau's whine of protest.

Soon Beau had prepared Kieran and he spat on his hand and rubbed in on his cock, making it as wet as possible.

"Get on with it, I can take it," Kieran claimed, pushing his hips back in an attempt to get the party started. Beau shook his head and kiss Kieran's neck softly,

"My tough little lover." He cooed, but Kieran looked back at him sharply,

"There is nothing little about me," he said seductively. Beau chuckled and hummed in agreement as he lined himself up with Kieran's hole. "Ok," he whispered, telling Kieran to get ready, but Kieran was way ahead of him and pushed backward, impaling himself on Beau. Beau cried out in pleasure as Kieran moaned at the mix of pleasure and pain that enveloped him. They stopped for a moment, and as Kieran adjusted, Beau kissed the back of his neck and his shoulders lovingly. He nuzzled his nose into Kieran's hair, nibbling on his ear, making the pleasure out weight the pain. Kieran grunted and rocked his hips, telling Beau he could move. Beau was going slowly, not really wanting their last time to be a rough fuck, but then Kieran grabbed his hips and slammed him forward roughly.

"I am going to boot camp tomorrow, I need you to fuck me," Beau moaned at the need in Kieran's voice, and of course obeyed immediately, bucking his hips faster and harder. The sounds coming from Kieran's mouth, Beau knew were going to make him come even faster. Beau didn't know he could fall in love so fast, and he didn't know he could love as deeply as he did. The very thought of never seeing Kieran again caused his heart to break. The thought of living a long life without him, nearly killed him. They came hard, each other's name cried into the air. As they panted, coming down from their clouds, using the other's arms as something tangible to hold onto, Kieran looked up at him, smiling sleepily,

"I love you too." Beau grinned and snuggled deeper into Kieran's body, wishing he never had to let go.

-warwarwarwarwarwarwarwarwar-

It had been 6 months, 6 agonizing months of watching friends die, of praying that you're next, of wondering if the letters you are writing home are going to make it before the officers go to your front door, to tell your family. Kieran smiled down at the picture in his hand, it was the one thing that reminded him what he had to live for. His father had, had a heart attack while he was in boot camp, he hadn't been allowed to attend the funeral.

"Who's the hottie?" a voice asked, seeing Kurt's picture that he keep carefully placed over the picture of himself and Blaine. The voice belong to Puckerman, one of the people in the unit who had volunteered to come to Nam. They'd been friends for 4 months,

"Her name's Brittany," Kieran said, reminding himself to thank his best friend when he got home for giving him the picture. If he got home.

"She's cute," Puckerman smirked, "So is the boy you're kissing in the other picture." Kieran paled and looked up at him, but Puckerman just sat down next to him,

"I don't give a damn who you fuck, Henderson. You are a good soldier and I will gladly put my life in your hands, so…" Kieran sighed in relief,

"Does anyone else know?" he asked softly looking nervously around, Puckerman chuckled,

"Nah, man, but no worries, we're just trying to get out of here alive, no one cares."

"Oh I doubt that," Kieran scoffed, but Puckerman shook his head and put his arm around Kieran's shoulder.

"If anyone gives you crap, tell me, I'll take care of him," Kieran laughed.

"Thanks," he smiled.

"Sooo, what's his name?" Puckerman teased, nudging playfully. Kieran shook his head, but couldn't hold back the beam that lit up his face,

"Shit, you've got it bad." Kieran moaned,

"You have no idea…" he paused, looking around shyly making sure no one else was looking before pulling the picture of Beau out from under the picture of Brittany's. "His name is Beau, he's my age, he's gorgeous, obviously." Puckerman smiled, he'd never seen Kieran smile before, he liked it. "I'd only known him three weeks before I went to boot camp, only a day before I got my draft card, it's ridiculous I'm so damn smitten." Kieran knew he had a good grin, but after feeling so terrible in this hell, it felt good to talk about something that made him happy. "He's a hippie too, not my type at all, but it was love at first sight." Puckerman playfully messed up Kieran's hair, Kieran growled teasingly, but Puckerman smirked,

"You don't scare me, Henderson."

"VIET CONG!" the yell hit the boys like a ton of bricks and they both grabbed their guns. Kieran reached for his hat, realizing that Beau's pictures weren't in there, he turned back for them.

"Henderson don't you dare! LEAVE THEM!"

"No!" Kieran cried grabbing them just before a bullet hit where his hand was. He was pulled away roughly by Puckerman, who cursed him angrily. They fired back towards where the shots had come from, while running forward. It took about 10 minutes for the firefight to stop, Puckerman and Kieran had lost sight of each other. Puckerman coughed away the smoke that had settled in the air, looking around for signs of life or death.

"Kieran!" he called out, pleading with God that Kieran would answer. It was an answer, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear, it was a groan, a groan of pain because he couldn't get out more than that. He quickly looked toward where the groan had come from and it only took him a moment to see Kieran, he was covered in dirt, and blood and…_damn it_. "You stupid, love drunk, bastard!" Puckerman hissed as he kneeled down next to him, Kieran's hand pressed over his fatal wound.

"We made a deal…" Kieran panted, "that when I—" he flinched as he moved to get the photo, "got home…" he moaned softly, "We'd trade, he took two—" _whimper "_I took two." Puckerman pressed his own hand against Kieran's injury, though they both knew it was too late. "I need you to find him-" Kieran gasped, "find him, and give him these, and tell him—I'll wait for him. H-h-he'll know." Puckerman cussed once again and took the pictures out of Kieran's hands. "P-p-ro-o-mis-s-se," Kieran begged, fighting to say conscious long enough to get a reply.

"God damn it," he hissed as he watched Kieran fight to live a little while longer. "I promise,"

"A-atkins h-his-s-s last na-" Kieran's eyes flickered closed and Puckerman swore once again, looking at his watch. _February 3, 1967 7:42pm_. Puckerman could only hope that he got to keep his promise.

Five more months had passed and Puckerman was so glad to be on U.S. soil. Even though everyone hated him, and he couldn't wear his uniform in public, he didn't mind, he wanted to erase his memories of that time anyway. He was just wearing jeans and a plaid shirt when he knocked on the door of the last known address of one Beau Atkins. An Asian answered the door and for half a second, Puckerman reached for his rifle, which was not longer strapped to him. He inhaled deeply,

"Is Beau Atkins here?" The Asian's face fell and his eyes grew pained and Puckerman could have screamed, he knew that look.

"I'm sorry, but he's dead." Puckerman stared for several minutes before scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He felt like he somehow owed it to Kieran to find out how and when.

"How? When?"

"Who are you, man?" he asked, looking at Puckerman skeptically.

"A friend of Kieran Henderson's," Puckerman replied, not in the mood to explain beyond that.

"Oh, yeah, the cat Beau was dating, he all right?"

"No, he's dead too, and it was his dying wish that I give something to Beau, and I come here and you tell me he's dead too. Tell me HOW and WHEN!" the Asian threw his hands up in surrender,

"Easy, man, just making sure you're cool," he claimed. "It was during a protest, the pigs brought damn bats, man, Beau was even more against the war once his boyfriend was over there. He wouldn't stop when the pig told him to back off, don't think they meant to, but… and do think that pig got charged. Hell no! It's a conspiracy man, with the Man taking and giving nothing back." Puckerman shook his head,

"Tell me when, so I can know if I should have come a couple days earlier or if…"

"Nah, Dude, it's been a while." The Asian looked down sadly, "it was in February, the third." Puckerman nodded for a second before his face snapped back up,

"Did you say February 3rd?" he asked in disbelief. The Asian paused for a moment,

"Yeah, that's right. Two days before his birthday too." Puckerman stared at him for several seconds before looking down at the photos in his hands. How was that even possible? The odds had to be millions to one.

"You tripping, man?" the asian's question brought him out of his thoughts.

"Does Kieran have family? I know his old man died, but…" the Asian shrugged,

"I only met the cat a couple times, they didn't know each other very long before he left." Puckerman nodded,

"Thanks for you help."

"No hassle," he nodded as Puckerman walked away.

It would take Puckerman two more weeks before he would find Kieran's family, his aunt, Elizabeth. She had thanked Puckerman for keeping his promise as well as he could, and that Kieran would have been grateful. Puckerman couldn't help but feel that it was a little silly that he didn't just throw the photo away, but they had meant a lot to Kieran, it had almost gotten him killed. But he knew that if there was any way they could be together, they were. He knew there had to be something bigger out there, February 3, 1967, two lovers died, thirteen hours apart with a 16 hour time difference and yet they still refused to live without the other.

_Ok please review. Please. And also, in case you didn't understand why Puckerman reached for his rifle when "the Asian aka Wesley" answered the door, it's because he had a moment of PTSD. Could have made it worse but just didn't want to drag it out. Also Wesley was sad about Beau, but his lingo was difficult for me to write so if he comes off as too casual, I apologize. I tried. Much love to everyone still reading *heart*_


	10. 1989

_Ohhhhh this chapter! I swear to GOD it was trying to kill me. I cried half the time I was writing it (that's right) and the other half I spent yelling at it to not be cheesy and stupid. So you decide if you like it or not, either way please, please review. This may have cost me part of my sanity and I'd hate to think it was in vain. Thanks to all my loyal readers. I love each and every one of you._

_Couple more things:_

_1)I do not have anything against open relationships. They were a very real thing in this time period (and now), but if the characters are saying harsh things about their tricking, please take it in context of a difficult situation. _

_2) I know Bernard could not be alive now and be Kurt's father too. I am aware of this. Just go with me, please. Thank you._

Kameron sighed as he glanced at the clock on the wall. 2:24am, he didn't even have to wonder what was keeping his partner. Sometimes he thought he might have been the stupidest man on earth for agreeing to an open relationship with Bryan. Giving his boyfriend an open invitation to cheat on him, at least if Kameron had said he wanted monogamy, Bryan might have worked a little harder to kept it a secret. But it was 1989, and despite the fear of AIDs, finding a one night stand was simple, bath houses and now gay clubs were plentiful. All Kameron could do was pray that Bryan had kept his promise to always be safe.

He heard the door of the apartment open and he let out a sigh of relief, part of his had always feared that his boyfriend might not return one night.

"Babe, you're awake, I'm sorry, I'm so late," was all the apology he got, but he would take it. When Bryan leaned down and kissed him, he could smell the stranger's scent on his lover and Kameron's heart broke a little. Bryan must have seen the look in Kameron's eyes for he quickly pulled away and pulled his shirt off,

"I'm going to go jump in the shower, I'll be back." Kameron said nothing as he watched him go into the bathroom. He sighed and rolled over, awaiting the weight on the other side of their double bed that told him that once again, Bryan had picked him. He would be lying if he didn't say that when Bryan's arms wrapped around his waist, he smiled.

"So was he any good?" Kameron asked, knowing this was part of the act he put on. Bryan kissed his neck and ear affectionately,

"Nowhere near as good as you." Bryan replied, which is what he always told Kameron, Kameron dreaded the day he didn't say that.

"But of course," Kameron teased, grinding his ass back onto Bryan, causing the curly haired man to groan. "But I'm too tired right now, maybe in the morning," Kameron knew Bryan was pouting, but if Kameron could wait, so could Bryan.

Kameron was a French major at New York University, while Bryan was a musician, playing local coffee houses and sometimes hired for parties or weddings as the entertainment. He also had rich parents who supported him, so long as they never found out that Kameron was more than a friend. And they couldn't afford for his parents to find out, and Kameron understood, he'd been disowned by his own father. Kameron was up before Bryan, he smiled at his boyfriend, whose mouth was halfway open, his hair was a mess on his head and he was still using Kameron's chest as a pillow, his arms wrapped tightly around the leaner boy's waist.

"Ah, how I wish I could stay mad at you," Kameron cooed and kissed Bryan's forehead before cautiously wiggling his body out of Bryan's grasp, replacing himself with a pillow. Bryan still whined softly, recognizing that what he was now holding wasn't his boyfriend, but he didn't wake up. Kameron got ready for class his hair perfect, his tight stonewashed jeans showing off his shape nicely, his blue shirt sleeves pushed up to the elbows. He crawled back into bed, pawing playfully at the covers Bryan had around his waist. "Good morning, gorgeous," he whispered, peppering soft kisses all over Bryan's face and shoulders. He was slightly surprised it wasn't waking Bryan up, but suddenly Bryan grabbed his around his torso and flipped them over so that he was on top, smiling down at Kameron, who chuckled.

"Good morning," Bryan whispered, kissing Kameron softly, but with enough force to let Kameron know, he meant it. That's why he put up with it, that's why he let Bryan trick all he wanted, because in the mornings, Kameron was always the one he was holding. "You look delicious in that outfit, who are you trying to seduce?" Bryan teased, Kameron smirked,

"My professor, you know, my tall, blonde muscular history professor?" Bryan growled as he attacked Kameron's neck. It wasn't that he would have cared it Kameron slept around too, but their deal was that the other men remain nameless for the most part. First names only, no surnames or numbers exchanged. Kameron had never slept with anyone else, even though he had permission, it wasn't something that appealed to him. "Uhhh, Bry, I have to go to class," Kameron claimed, pushed Bryan off.

"But you said-" Bryan whined but Kameron shook his head,

"You are insatiable, and I have a test today, so no, no sex. Maybe if you are home before I'm asleep tonight." Kameron challenged, testing to see if Bryan would even try and get home at a decent hour.

"Is that a promise?" Bryan asked, and Kameron smiled,

"Yes, I promise." Bryan beamed,

"Then I'll be here." Kameron chuckled and gave him another quick peck on the lips before heading out.

Kameron was home after work that night at 7, Bryan was nowhere to be found.

He was just about to fall asleep at 10 when the apartment door burst open,

"I'm here! I'm here!" Bryan yelled, literally running and flying on the bed. Kameron chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms around Bryan's neck, kissing him deeply, Bryan moaned softly. It didn't matter how many other men he slept with, Kameron would always be the best, would always be the most important.

"Did you only come home because I promised you sex?" Kameron asked as his hand drifted down to Bryan's already tented pants.

"Guuuhnnn," Bryan groaned as his lover sucked on his ear lobe in just the right way to drive Bryan crazy.

"What was that, Dear?" Kameron teased, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"No, you know- _ah-_ that I will always come home to you," Bryan claimed, gasping loudly when Kameron climbed down his body and mouthed Bryan though his jeans.

"Let's make sure I keep it that way," Kameron stated, unbuttoning Bryan's pants and pulling them down swiftly. Bryan didn't let Kameron finish, before he pulled him back so that they were once more eye to eye.

"I love you, never doubt that, Baby," Kameron smiled and nuzzled Bryan's neck lovingly, placing several kisses in the places he knew drove his partner most crazy.

"Love you too," Kameron whispered. They made love four times until neither of them could move, but after they lay contently in each other's' arms.

_Changing my life with your love,  
>Has been so easy for you.<br>And I'm amazed every day,  
>And I'll need you,<br>'Til all the mountains are valleys,  
>And every ocean is dry, my love.<br>I'll be yours until the sun doesn't shine,  
>'Til time stands still,<em>

_Until the winds don't blow.  
>When today is just a memory to me, I know,<br>I'll still be lovin',  
>I'll still be lovin' you.<br>I'll still be lovin' you.  
>Never before did I know,<br>How loving someone could be.  
>Now I can see you and me,<br>For a lifetime.  
>Until the last moon is rising,<br>You'll see the love in my eyes, my love.  
>I'll be yours until the sun doesn't shine,<br>'Til time stands still,  
>Until the winds don't blow.<br>When today is just a memory to me, I know,  
>I'll still be lovin',<br>I'll still be lovin' you._

_I'll be yours until the sun doesn't shine,  
>'Til time stands still,<br>Until the winds don't blow.  
>When today is just a memory to me, I know,<br>I'll still be lovin',  
>I'll still be lovin' you.<br>I'll still be lovin' you._

Bryan leaned up and kissed Kameron deeply,

"I love your voice so much, you should have majored in music." He claimed, but Kameron chuckled,

"No, no one wants a delicate, high pitched thing singing for them."

"Androgyny is so in right now, Baby," Bryan teased, rewarded with a swat, even as he laughed.

"Jerk," Kameron muttered, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face.

"You don't need to worry, I know you're all man, it's one of the reason's I love you so much," Bryan growled hungrily. Kameron hummed softly as Bryan kissed his neck and face,

"You can't possibly have the ability to get hard again, four times is a record for us." Bryan snuggled into Kameron's embrace,

"No, we're done tonight, but that doesn't mean I can't show you how much I love you."

Kameron sighed softly, he knew, no matter what, he would love this man the rest of his life.

**6monthslater….6monthslater…..6monthslater**

"Bryan, stop it!…" Kameron squealed, Bryan just laughed and continued to tickle Kameron's sides mercilessly. "I hattttteeeee you," Kameron half laughed half growled.

"Sure you do," Bryan grinned, kissing Kameron's neck even as the other man squirmed desperately.

"I do!" Kameron cried, as he tried to flip over to no avail. "I am never going to have sex with you again," Bryan stopped tickling and pulled back slightly.

"Now you're just telling lies," and continued his tickle torture to his boyfriend, who screamed. Suddenly the phone rang and Kameron let out a moan of relief,

"Oh you just wait, I'm not done with you yet." Bryan claimed as he rolled over and grabbed the phone, Kameron giggled softly, kissing Bryan's shoulder as it turned away from him. It was their 4 year anniversary and they had both taken the entire day off from every responsibility they had to just spend the day in bed with each other. "Hello," Bryan greeted, rolling back over to face his partner, smiling lovingly.

"Bryan Ackles?" the voice on the other end said hesitantly. Bryan ran his fingers lazily through Kameron's hair, thinking maybe it was time to devote himself solely to Kameron and stop messing around.

"You've got him," Bryan confirmed, biting his bottom lip as Kameron moved forward to suck on a place just below his ear.

"I don't know if you remember me, I'm Henry, we hooked up a few months ago," the caller said. "I got your last name and number from the manager, though it would ok, considering."

"Oh yeah, we met at Spicy, right?" Bryan asked, feeling Kameron pull away and could feel the hurt radiate from his boyfriend. He quickly shook his head and pulled Kameron back to him, wrapping one arm around him.

"That's right," Henry agreed, "I have to tell you something, are you busy?"

"I was just spending the day with my boyfriend, why?" Bryan didn't know why, but there was something about Henry's tone that made him extremely nervous and he subconsciously wrapped his arm even tighter around Kameron.

"I-I um just found out that I have AIDS, you and your boyfriend should get tested." Bryan froze and Kameron of course sensed it immediately and looked up at him. He had paled several shades and looked like he was going to be sick.

"Bry?" Kameron whispered, Bryan blinked before opening his mouth to speak again,

"Do you know how long you've had it?" Kameron fully separated himself from Bryan this time, staring at him in horror.

"At least 9 months," Henry admitted. Bryan flinched shutting his eyes as Kameron sat further away from him, seeing the anguish and fear in Bryan's face.

"Thank you," Bryan whispered as he hung up the phone, looking at Kameron.

"What is it?" He wasn't asking what the problem was, he was asking what the disease they may have was.

"AIDS," Kameron's face went ashen and he shifted even further away from Bryan.

"You were always safe with fucking but not with blow jobs," Kameron whispered more to himself that to Bryan. Bryan flinched at the truth in the statement, he'd always thought using a condom when fucking meant he was safe.

"I'm so sorry," Bryan whispered, knowing full well that if Kameron was positive, it would be all his fault. Kameron paused, staring silently at his boyfriend, biting his lower lip.

"This is not how I imagined spending our anniversary, but we need to go get tested," the taller man claimed, climbing off the bed. Bryan watched for a moment before lunging over to Kameron and grabbing his hand.

"I am so sorry, Kam," Kameron sighed softly and leaned down to kiss Bryan's lips lightly.

"Come on, let's get ready," he said, pulling his boyfriend up and off the bed, but he could already see the tears that had formed in Bryan's eyes. "Bryan, can you not do this right now? Can we just get tested and deal with it then?" Bryan's biggest fear in that moment was not getting AIDS, it was Kameron leaving him because he had AIDS or even HIV. He nodded quietly and followed Kameron's lead and took a shower, alone.

Kameron took a deep breath, sitting at the kitchen table, burying his face in his hands and inhaling deeply. Why had he let Bryan sleep around? He hadn't wanted to agree to his boyfriend sleeping with other men, but he was too scared of losing him to say no. It only took Bryan five minutes to take a shower before he came out and looked at Kameron as if the light brunette was made of glass.

"Hey, when we get home, how about we order a pizza," Bryan looked up sharply.

"Even if-?" Bryan squeaked, causing Kameron to chuckled tiredly, shaking his head,

"Yes, even if." Bryan ran to Kameron sobbing, flinging his arms around him.

"I will never sleep with another person but you again. I have never loved another person, ever. I will never fuck anyone else, I swear," Bryan buried his face in Kameron's neck.

"Even if?" Kameron whispered, knowing there was always a chance they were negative.

"Especially if," Bryan continued to sob harder. Kameron hugged him tighter, kissing his hair gently,

"I love you, Bryan, I always will."

"God, how did I get you? What did I do to deserve you? I should have never tricked, I should have always come home to you. I am so sorry, Kam, I am so, so sorry," Bryan wailed.

"We don't know if you have anything to be sorry for," Kameron whispered. "We could be fine, be could both be fine," they both knew that was true, but they had every reason to be terrified.

Slowly they got ready, touching each other as often as they could, hands touching, arms brushing, sad smiles exchanged, letting each other know that neither was going anywhere.

__

"We'll get your test results to you in a couple of weeks," the doctor said, looking sympathetic but there was still a bit of judgment in his tone.

"Yes, sir," Kameron said, taking Bryan's hand, sighing. "Thank you." They left the doctor's office together, Bryan laying his head on Kameron's shoulder, tears whispering down his cheeks. Kameron wrapped his arms around Bryan's shoulders, kissing his temple. "Come on, there is a pizza with our name on it, we shouldn't let it go to waste." Bryan hummed quietly in agreement, shutting his eyes against the strength of the arms that held him.

__

Once back at their apartment Kameron pulled back kissing his forehead before heading into their bedroom. Bryan called the pizza place, and by the time the doorbell rang he realized that Kameron hadn't come out. He set the pizza on the table before following the path Kameron had taken fifteen minutes earlier. He heard Kameron before he saw him, soft broken sobs that tore into Bryan's heart and he felt ten times guiltier. He looked into the room; Kameron had his face in his hands, looking more scared than upset.

"Kameron," Bryan whispered, his boyfriend's head jerked up sharply, quickly wiping the tears.

"The pizza here?" Kameron asked, and it almost hurt Bryan that Kameron tried to act like he was fine. But Bryan wasn't having it; he sat next to Kameron, hesitantly putting his hand on Kameron's arm.

"Babe," that word, and knowing that Bryan had already seen it, Kameron broke down, falling into Bryan's arms.

"I should never have said it was ok, I should have never let you trick, I am so stupid," Kameron cried, clinging to Bryan's shirt. Bryan shook his head,

"I should never have done it in the first place, this is all on me, Kam, none of this is your fault. You are perfect and I love you, and I am so sorry that I thought that I needed more. I never needed anything but you." Bryan's voice broke, as he pulled Kameron tighter in his arms. "If we are- p-positive, or if just I am-" Bryan began but he couldn't bring himself to ask the love of his life if he was going to leave him.

"No, Bryan, I'm not going anywhere," Kameron replied softly, the sobs calming to just shutters. "I love you too," Bryan closed his eyes tightly as he held Kameron.

They tried to be normal for the next two weeks, but every time things got even close to being like they were, something would come on the news about the disease, or they'd read an obituary of someone they used to know. It got to the point that they barely looked at each other, that the fear and sadness became too much. Kameron fell asleep on the couch and Bryan didn't wake him up to go to bed. Bryan couldn't find his wallet, and Kameron didn't tell him it was on the nightstand. They hadn't looked at each other at all the day they got the phone call ,

"Hello," Bryan said heavily into the phone.

"Is this Mr. Bryan Ackles?" the voice replied and Bryan's eyes snapped to Kameron, who was already staring at him. Bryan hesitantly held out his hand, Kameron took it without a second thought.

"Yes, this is him," Bryan choked out, his voice strained and tight.

"We are going to need to come back to the clinic as soon as you are able, Mr. Ackles. And it says here that you and Mr. Kameron Hayes live together,"

"That's right," Bryan said, tears already streaming down his face. Their friends Nick and Jeff had an AIDS scare, Nick had it, Jeff didn't. They told Jeff over the phone he was negative, they called Nick in to the office to tell him he was positive.

"May I speak to him as well please," the person said. Kameron slowly took the phone that was being held out to him, staring at Bryan, knowing from his face what he'd been told.

"This is Kameron Hayes," Kameron said, his voice breathy and shaking.

"Hello, Mr. Hayes, we are going to need you as well to come to the clinic as soon as you can." Kameron nodded before he remembered he couldn't be seen,

"Yes all right." He agreed, staring at Bryan whose face crumbled in pain at recognizing that he too had been asked to come in. He hung up with phone with a trembling hand and turned to Bryan who pulled him into a hug, tears pouring down both of their faces.

"Please don't hate me," Bryan begged, clutching to Kameron. Kameron shook his head,

"I don't hate you. I hate that we weren't more careful. I hate that I am 20 years old and probably won't live to see 25. I hate that we are going to have to watch each other deteriorate into nothing." Bryan whimpered softly and though he didn't particularly believe in a God he prayed then and there that he would die first, he couldn't watch Kameron die, he couldn't.

They got their prescription cocktail, both sad that they had already progressed to AIDS by the time they had been tested. They started taking the drugs, and they had two healthy years together. Bryan called as many of his past partner as he could find and contact, and soon having AIDS just became a mild irritation, but then, Kameron started to lose weight. He would wake up soaked in sweat, and Bryan would hold him while he cried in pain from headaches. Eventually he had to be admitted to the hospital.

It was 7:50 on the first day when Kameron started laughing,

"I think this is hardly the time to laugh, my darling." Bryan couldn't take his eyes off his boyfriends even paler face. It was so white it was close to transparent.

"I was just thinking about how I am happier right now dying in this bed with you by my side, than I ever was in Ohio." Bryan let out a soft chuckle of sadness and exhaustion,

"But you wouldn't be here if it weren't for me." Kameron rolled his eyes,

"I wouldn't have lived to 20 if it weren't for you." Bryan looked at his partner in confusion and disbelief, Kameron chuckled once again, "Dad kicked me out when I was 17, I had enough money for a ticket to New York, and not much else." Bryan nodded, he knew all of this, "Had I not met you in the park that day, I probably would have either started to hustle or just gone ahead and killed myself, it was better than being alone." Now that part, Bryan didn't know, he stared in shock and horror before crashing their lips together in panicked desperation. It was bad enough that Kameron was dying at 22, the thought that he'd died earlier than that made Bryan nauseous.

"I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over," a nurse said, sticking her head in the door.

"I'm his partner," Bryan stated, but the nurse shook her head.

"Only family is allowed to stay past 8 pm, husband, wives, and parents. Again, sorry,"

"No," Kameron whimpered, "He's all I have, please, please let him stay, please." The nurse flinched but shook her head,

"It's policy, I can't do anything," she claimed.

"You could walk away and pretend you didn't see me," Bryan said in response but she still refused.

"What would I tell the night nurse when she caught you?" Kameron shook his head as tears fell from his eyes,

"Tell her that I don't want to die alone." Kameron cried softly. The nurse blinked back her own tears as she walked in the room.

"He can stay in the waiting room, and I can make sure someone comes and gets him the moment something happens, but that is the best I can do." Bryan squeezed his eyes shut, causing his own tears to fall, before turning back to Kameron.

"I will come back in here the second they'll let me, and I'll be right outside in the waiting room," he promised, kissing the back of Kameron's hand softly.

"No, at least go home, if you can't be in here anyway, that's no reason you should have to sleep in a hard chair." Kameron claimed, Bryan opened his mouth to argue but Kameron wasn't done, "I am not dying tonight, Bryan, just go home, I'll see you in the morning." Bryan nodded slowly, inhaling sadly before kissing Kameron once more, leaving his forehead on Kameron's and breathing each other in.

"I love you," Bryan whispered, kissing his lips lightly once more before pulling away.

"I love you too," Kameron said.

It was two days later when a man Kameron hadn't seen in five years nodded quietly on the door.

"Dad?" Kameron asked in disbelief, looking at Bryan for an explaination.

"Hey Kam," his father greeted him, looking sad and tired and guilty. "Bryan," he nodded at the man holding his son's hand.

"Hi, Mr. Hayes, thank you for coming," Bryan said, causing Kameron to glare at him, waiting for his boyfriend to start talking. "Since I'm not allowed in here at night, I took a shot in the dark and contacted your dad, told him you were in the hospital and that I wasn't family so you were alone at night." Kameron frown slightly before looking back up at his father,

"And you just dropped everything to come, I have no idea how much longer I have."

"From the look of you kiddo, not very long," his tactless father replied. "But I wanted to apologize, you are my son, regardless of whether I agree with you or not. I should never had kicked you out," Kameron shrugged,

"Probably the best thing to happen to me, it led me to Bryan." Bryan smiled softly, though pain and fear shone through.

"So Bryan didn't go into details," his father began, pulling up a chair, "Why are you in here? Is it what I think?" He asked, expecting an honest answer,

"What do you think it is?" Bryan asked quietly, not wanting to overstep.

"AIDS," Bernard said bluntly, Kameron nodded gently.

"Diagnosed two years ago."

"It should have been me first," Bryan whispered, "I infected you, I have had it longer." Kameron shook his head,

"You and I both know it affects people differently." Bernard was glaring at Bryan,

"You gave this to him?" Bryan nodded, not fearing his boyfriend's father's anger, only Kameron's. And Kameron had made it clear many times that he didn't blame or hate Bryan for it, besides, Bryan blamed and hated himself enough for both of them.

"You don't get to say one word," Kameron bit, "I could have died alone on the streets after you kicked me out. This was an accident, I don't blame him, and I dare you to be mad at him." Bryan had to smile, even on his death bed, Kameron was the most fiery people he'd ever known. Then Bernard smirked,

"Haven't changed much have you?" Kameron softened a bit and grinned as well,

"No, not really."

So for the next month Bryan never left his side during the day and Bernard spent all night by his side. Bernard would leave an hour after Bryan would arrive and would go to their apartment and sleep until an hour before visiting hours were over, giving the person that meant the most to his son, alone time with Kameron. Bernard had taken to watching them together, the way Bryan's smiles, while always heartbroken, were completely genuine. Seeing the way they both got teary eyed when visiting hours were over and Bryan had to leave. He watched as they always held onto each other until the last moment, though they never took their eyes off of each other until they were out of sight. And when Bryan came in the mornings it was as if the light switch in both of them had been turned on. It wasn't as if they beamed, but it was more like they just began to glow, though a stranger wouldn't have noticed.

Kameron had gotten steadily worse, he lost more weight, he had dark circles under his eyes, at night he had trouble breathing. Bernard hated himself for his past, for turning his child away as if he meant nothing to him. His wife hadn't been pleased when he told her, he'd met her after Kurt was gone and Caroline had been horrified. He'd been forced to sleep on the couch for nearly a month. But as Bernard watched Kameron fight uselessly against the disease that they all knew was going to win, he realized just how strong his son was. Every day he put a smile on, even if it was weak, he would make jokes and not for once had he been bitter about his situation, and he had every right to be. The only time Bernard had even seen Kameron cry over it was when Bernard had gone to get a cup of coffee and had turned back, forgetting his wallet. Kameron was staring at the wall, tears streaming down his face, Bernard didn't have the heart to make himself known.

Bryan rarely slept when he went back the apartment at night, he knew that wasn't particularly a good idea, considering his own health. He'd started getting headaches and had lost 10 lbs in two weeks, but he wouldn't tell Kameron that, wouldn't let Kameron worry about him. Every time he looked at his boyfriend his heart sank further. He could tell Kameron was declining rapidly, he could tell that his beautiful blue eyed lover didn't have much longer left on the earth. But Kameron would never let on how badly he was feeling. He knew Kameron must have been in pain, despite the medication he was receiving. Kameron had asked the doctors to just give him enough to take the edge off, not enough to knock him out, he wanted to spend as much time as he could with his father and love. He'd done a good job not wincing, or flinching in pain, but there were moments when it became too much and Bryan felt like his soul was dying more and more every single time. He hadn't wanted to watch Kameron die, but part of him knew he deserved it, deserved to have to lose the only person he truly loved and who loved him back. The only person who hadn't wanted something from him other than himself, was the one person he'd hurt the most in the world. Kameron didn't think of it that way, but Bryan sure did. His parents had completely disowned him when he called them to tell them he was dying. Instead of rushing to his side, they had told him it was punishment for his sin of homosexuality. 'No, Dad, it's punishment for being stupid and sleeping with people I don't love.' Kameron, who had more of a reason than anyone to hate him, had continued to love him unconditionally. Smiling at him when he walked into the hospital room, kissing him warmly as a greeting, Bryan had always known his boyfriend was amazing, but the past two years and especially the past month, had proved that Kameron was made of something more than most people could not even imagine. And, he had every right to be angry, at Bryan, at life, at the universe, he'd been dealt a really bad hand, with no opportunity for another game.

Bryan watched as Kameron tried to hide the fact that breathing was becoming a challenge, but his face contorted with pain and he inhaled a shaky, half gasped breath.

_Where has the time all gone to  
>Haven't done half the things we want to<br>Oh well, We'll catch up some other time  
><em> 

Kameron looked at him, his breathing easing as his partner ran his fingers through his hair and sang softly to him.

_This day was just a token  
>Too many words are still unspoken<br>Oh Well, we'll catch up some other time_

_Just when the fun is starting  
>comes the time for parting<br>let's just be glad for what we had  
>And what's to come<em>

"I love this song," Kameron whispered in a strained voice, but Bryan smirked sadly,

"I know." Kameron nodded feebly, bringing Bryan's hand up to his lips and using every bit of strength he had to kiss it. Tears poured down Bryan's face as he watched Kameron shut his eyes, so tired and sick that he was having trouble hiding it anymore.

_There's so much more embracin'  
>Still to be done but time is racin'<br>Oh well, we'll catch up some other time_

_There's so much more embracin'  
>Still to be done but time is racin'<br>Oh well, we'll catch up some other time_

Kameron opened his eyes, looking in Bryan's wet hazel eyes,

"You mean that?" He asked quietly, Bryan looked at him confused, "If eternity exists we can be together?" Bryan's lip curved up and he nodded,

"Absolutely, we'll find each other if it takes a thousand years."

"Or a million lifetimes," Kameron replied, smiling tenderly at his lover.

Bryan had always had a hard time leaving at night, but that night, he actually clung to Kameron, sobbing, begging the nurse not to make him go, Bernard had to gently pulled him off.

"Bryan, son, look at me," Bernard demanded as Bryan practically collapsed in Bernard's arms. "You know I'll call you," Bryan whimpered at Bernard's words, still looking past him at Kameron, whose eyes were filled with worry and pain and he hung his head and nodded half-heartedly.

"Babe," Kameron whispered, holding out his hand, though they all noticed his hand shaking in the effort. Bryan took it, both of their hands were ice cold, but neither noticed. "A thousand years or a million lifetimes," Bryan sobbed again, kissing Kameron's head, devastated.

"I love you," Bryan choked as he tried to stop the tears. Kameron nodded,

"I love you too."

Once Bryan had left Bernard sighed softly, and Kameron wiped his eyes, even though tears continued to fall.

"I know you're upset but it's policy, a stupid one but…" Kameron shook his head at his father's words,

"It's not that." Bernard waited, knowing Kameron would continue, "Well part of is it, but most of it, is that," Kameron paused, swallowing hard, "Bryan is getting worse. He's gotten pale and lost weight, I'd say, ten pounds." Bernard nodded, though he hadn't noticed the lost weight, he knew Bryan was paler. "I need you to make me a promise, if you do nothing else for me, please, you have to promise me this." Kameron begged, his voice breaking in despair. Bernard took his son's hand in his own and flinched at the temperature, he didn't know it was possible for human skin to be that cold.

"I promise, Kameron, whatever it is, I promise," Bernard agreed, unable to turn his child's plea down.

"Don't let him die alone, Dad, please, I don't care what you have to do, I don't care what you have to tell them. His parents disowned him, and I'm going to die really soon, and I don't want him to die alone. He thinks he deserves it, but he doesn't, he's such a wonderful person and boyfriend and you can't let him die without anyone beside him," by this point, Kameron was sobbing and Bernard pulled him into his arms, shushing him gently. He was rocking him like he used to do when Kameron had a nightmare.

"I promise, Kameron, no matter what, I'll be here," Kameron sobbed harder, but nodded, clinging as tightly as he could, which given, wasn't very tight. Bernard couldn't believe that this man in his arms, was the same little boy that used looked up at him and ask if his father would marry him. Kissing his son's hair, he held him until he felt the even breathing that hadn't changed since he was a child, telling Bernard he was asleep.

Bryan expected to get the call all night that his lover was gone, but he never did. He got about an hour of sleep before realizing it was impossible. He headed into the kitchen and fixed a cup of coffee, sitting at the table, slouching in exhaustion and grief. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't feel like his world was ending. Wait, yes he did, their four year anniversary when he was considering giving up his days of tricking to devote himself fully to Kameron. He was too late… four years too late. He knew now, he never should have slept with anyone of than the man he adored, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, a long, long, healthy life. Because of his mistakes, he denied himself and his partner that. He didn't even realize he'd begun crying until moisture hit his hand, he didn't bother to wipe the away, he just took another sip of coffee and waited until the time he could be back by his partner's side.

Kameron knew he was going to die soon, he could feel it. There was an aching in his bones that told him his body couldn't continue on like this, and honestly, if it weren't for Bryan, Kameron would have let go days ago. His father hadn't left his side all night, and Kameron couldn't deny that he was grateful that he had been able to make up with him before he died. Kameron struggled to get his breath, whimpering slightly when he failed to inhale deeply. Bernard sat up and grabbed his son's hand,

"Easy, K-K, you can do it, just breathe in slowly." Kameron obeyed, finally getting it under control a couple minutes later, though he was even more tired. He sagged back on the pillow, looking up at Bernard, whose eyes were full of fear and worry.

"Thanks, Dad," Kameron said softly, smiling as much as he could at Bernard.

"I don't think I did that much," Bernard claimed, but Kameron shook his head.

"I mean for coming, for not telling Bryan that I got what I deserved for being gay, like his parents did," Bernard's jaw clenched in anger at the very thought of saying that to his dying child.

"I will spend every moment for the rest of my life regretting that for the last five years I have treated you like you weren't good enough. Like you somehow weren't my son because you are gay, it's not true, you know. It was my problem, not yours." Bernard said, his voice cracking, knowing that this was his son telling him goodbye.

"I forgave you a while ago, Dad, now I want you to forgive yourself; we all say and do things when we are angry that we don't necessarily mean. And really, it worked out like it supposed to, if you hadn't kicked me out, I wouldn't have met Bryan, and I can never begrudge something that led me to Bryan." Bernard smiled softly,

"He's a good man, despite…" he motioned to Kameron, who ignoring the fact that he was too weak to cock his eyebrow, gave him the watered down version of his bitch glare. "Sorry, my point is, I'm glad you found love, someone that clearly loves you as much as you love him." Kameron's face softened and his lips curled up gently. "I promise I'll be right by his side until he goes," Kameron nodded slightly, sighing in exhaustion.

"He thinks he deserves to watch me die, because he infected me, he doesn't. I couldn't bear it if I had to see him, like I look now." Bernard shook his head, leaning forward to kiss Kameron's forehead. "No one deserves to watch their loved one waste away, I wish he understood that."

A couple of hours later Bryan walked into the hospital room, looking like he'd would have a hospital bed of his own soon. Kameron's heart broke when he saw Bryan's red, swollen eyes, showing that he'd been crying for hours. Bernard stared at the man a couple of seconds too long for Bryan glared at him, not in the mood to be asked how he was, wasn't it obvious he felt like shit?

"How'd last night go?" Bryan's voice also gave him away, it was hoarse and broken from screaming.

"I've had better nights," Kameron joked weakly, but Bryan got the message and smiled slightly.

"I'm right there with you," Bryan agreed as he laid down in the bed with Kameron, taking his hand and turning inward, throwing his other arm around Kameron's waist. Bryan had taken to doing that since he'd been getting paler, Kameron got the feeling it was because he thought he would be dying alone and wanted to remember what it felt like to hold someone.

"I love you, Bry, and I always will," Kameron whispered and Bryan got closer and buried his face in Kameron's chest.

"I love you too," Bryan whispered as his tears seeped into Kameron's hospital gown. Bernard made to motion to leave like he normally did, until Kameron motioned out the door, nodding.

"Kam-" Bernard began to protest, but Kameron interrupted,

"Bye, Dad, I love you." Bryan waited for the 'see you later' Kameron always tacked on, but it never came.

"Bye, Son, I love you too," his voice cracked, leaning over and kissing Kameron's head. "Call me," he whispered in Bryan's ear as he pulled away. Bryan whimpered but nodded, holding Kameron even tighter as if holding him would keep him there longer.

Bryan and Kameron stayed in that position all morning, only when the nurse came in to replace his IV did they even look up. It was around 3pm when Kameron nudged Bryan, who looked up at him,

"Go get some coffee." Bryan looked at him in disbelief and confusion, "You look like crap, plus you haven't eaten and you need to take your meds." Bryan honestly didn't care about his own health anymore, he hadn't taken his medication in a week. Kameron would be gone soon, so what did Bryan have to stick around for?

"I'm not hungry," Bryan replied, but then he saw it, the desperation in Kameron's eyes. He couldn't really tell what it was for, but he had the sickening feeling Kameron was getting him out of the room so he wouldn't have to watch him die. "Baby-" he whined softly, kissing Kameron's lips pleading with him, that he wouldn't leave him.

"Go, Bryan, please." Kameron begged so quietly Bryan had to strain to hear it.

"I love you, Kam, I love you so much," Bryan cried, tears streaming. Kameron smiled as much as he could, his beautiful glaz eyes still shining, in spite of pain and disease consuming him.

"I love you too, make sure you get caffeinated coffee," Kameron said weakly. Bryan let out a sob and nodded, kissing Kameron as hard as he could without hurting him. Tears fell down his cheeks as he watched Kameron until he was out of the room, it wasn't until he was out of Kameron's hearing range that he put his hands on his knees and let out a cry of agony, knowing that when he got back to the room his lover would be dead. A nurse stopped and put her hand on his shoulder hesitantly,

"Sir?" she began only to have Bryan jerk up, looking at her as if she had seven heads. "Do you want me to give you a sedative?" she asked kindly, Bryan wondered if she didn't understand what he was crying about. He shook his head though, taking a deep but shaky breath,

"N-n-no Th-thanks." She nodded, taking a step back and waiting to see what he would do. He turned and headed to the cafeteria, knowing he could go back soon, it wouldn't take Kameron long.

Kameron didn't want to die alone, but even more than that, he didn't want Bryan to have to see it. He knew he'd probably struggle to breathe for a moment, his body instinctually trying to save itself. And Kameron couldn't stand to watch Bryan sobbing as he begged him to breathe, begging him to not leave him. He could feel his body giving up, his heart was barely beating, his breathing getting more labored, getting hung in his throat every few seconds. His eyes were no longer open and he heard the heart monitor becoming more distant. He didn't hear when it flat lined, the last thought in his mind was an image of Bryan, on the day they met, smiling brightly at him, offering him his hand so Kameron could stand.

Bryan could barely bring himself to go back to the hospital room, considering instead just going back to their apartment, climbing under the covers and pretending that Kameron was just at work or school. Pretending that they had been exclusive and never gotten AIDS, pretending that he had proposed to Kameron and let him go crazy planning their commitment ceremony. He could pretend that they would be together forever, living until they were old, dying together wrinkled and gray in each other's arms, not like this. Not at 22, not in cold hospital rooms, in agony and alone.

"Time of death- 3:09pm," the words hit Bryan and he entered the room slowly, tears becoming permanent parts his cheek.

"Bryan," Kameron's day nurse breathed upon seeing him. Suddenly Bryan hit the floor, not knowing or caring where his strength went. The doctor and nurses swarmed him, he heard them giving history and orders, and he really didn't care, he just wanted to be with Kameron no matter what that meant.

When he opened his eyes he was the one in the hospital bed, an IV jabbed in his arm.

"Bryan?" A voice said softly and Bryan focused on a face he wasn't sure he'd ever see again staring back at him.

"Bernard," he whispered. Bernard had tears on his cheeks, and Bryan wondered why he was there instead of with Kameron. Then he remembered and his eyes accepted the now familiar burn of tears. "How long have I been…?"

"Three days," Bernard reported, "Bryan, when did you stop taking your AZT? Your T cell count was 21," Bryan looked up at him sighing.

"10 days ago, I figured, if Kameron was going to die, I don't have any reason to be here, why not get it over with." Bernard shook his head,

"You two were meant for each other, he would have done exactly the same thing. Stubborn boys, both of you," Bryan smiled sadly.

"He is the most stubborn person I've ever met, he could make me feel like a piece of shit one minute and then like I was the only person on earth the next."

"Yeah, he has-had a way about him," Bernard corrected himself, flinching at the referring to his son in the past tense.

"Why are you here?" Bryan asked, Bernard had never met him before he called to tell him Kameron had AIDS, so why was this man, his dead partner's estranged father, sitting at his bed side.

"Because Kameron made me promise not to let you die alone," Bryan stared at Bernard for a moment before letting out a sob, burying his face in his hands.

"You noble, self-sacrificing…. Selfish shit," Bryan sobbed.

"Excuse me?" Bernard asked, raising in eyebrow that if Bryan had taken time to notice, he would have realized was exactly the same way Kameron used to.

"He…" Bryan let out a wet choking sound, "He made me leave the room." Bryan cried harder, gripping his sheets, "He told me to go get coffee, I knew he was going to die, and I knew that's why he asked me to leave, but I never thought…" Bryan groaned in frustration.

"Bryan, Kameron was always been the type that doesn't like to show when he's weak. I swear when he was a kid, he could have been bleeding from his eyeballs and he would have told us he could take care of himself. To be honest, I'm surprised he didn't kick us out of hospital room on multiply occasions." Bryan let out a weak laugh,

"Oh I think if he'd been able he would have." Then his face fell once more, "It shouldn't be like this." Bernard took his hand, which in a way surprised both of them. Bryan couldn't help but notice the difference in Bernard's hand and Kameron's. Kameron's were only slightly bigger than his, and soft, and just a little cool, but not enough to not feel warm in his. Bernard's were rough, clearly from years of working on cars, and his hand was bigger than Kameron's and was warm, almost impossibly warm; Bryan chose not to think of what that meant about his own hand's temperature. "Has anything been done about the apartment? I took care of most of it before Kameron got sick, but there's a lot of stuff in there." Bernard nodded,

"I'll go through it all once…" He'd only known this boy a month, but seeing how his son looked at him every day in the last days of his life, made Bernard love him like another son.

"Ok." Bryan agreed.

Another week passed and Bernard knew it wouldn't become two. He watched Bryan as he slept, knowing the key difference in Bryan and his son, Bryan had nothing to fight for. He was fine with dying, it meant possibly seeing Kameron, and that was something earth no longer offered.

Nine days after Kameron died, his lover followed the only way he could. As he died, Bernard was by his side, and he would have sworn the last thing to come out of Bryan's mouth, as he looked up at the ceiling with a soft smile, was the word Kameron. Interesting how things work out.

_Hmmm do you dislike that last line as much as I did? Please review. Much appreciated. Two chapters left. Well PRESENT time part 1 and part2 so…_


	11. Present

_Present day. The Klaine we all know and love! So I don't own anyone in this. It jumps around a little bit, but it's nothing you all shouldn't be able to understand. I don't own the song in this chapter either. And the first song in the story is Darren Criss's piano acoustic version of teenage dream…. (Yes I went there) hope you enjoy it!_

"And do you, Kurt Hummel, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to be loving and loyal to him, to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall live?" Kurt looked into his partner's face, seeing those beautiful hazel eyes shine with joy and his mind took him back to the day they met.

_ No one was looking at him like he was diseased. No one seemed to care that his hair was perfect, or that his clothes, while impeccable, didn't exactly match their uniform. Every rushed past him and it was refreshing to not be the freak._

_ "Excuse me," he said quickly, before the boy with far too much gel in his hair got away. The boy turned to him and Kurt knew, he was done, he knew he would never see a human being so perfect ever again. "Um, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here?" Kurt was sure his voice was breathy and higher than usual, but he couldn't help it._

_ "My name's Blaine," the boy held out his hand. Kurt hadn't been touched by someone his own age that didn't mean him harm, in weeks, and he was floored by the casualness in which Blaine offered. Then he actually took the hand… it fit into his perfectly, like it was meant for him to hold._

_ "Kurt…"_

"Kurt…Kurt," Blaine 25 year old face, replaced the 16 year old, his eyes now slightly widened with nervousness at Kurt's pause before answering. Kurt smiled,

"It won't be until the day I die," he admitted. Blaine's face crumpled, but Kurt took his hand, the one that still fit perfectly in his, ignoring the gasps and murmurs of their guests. "Blaine," Kurt whispered, making his almost husband look up at him. "You told me that day in the junior common room that it felt like you had been looking for me forever." The room had once again grown quiet and Kurt grinned as Blaine's eyes lit up in recognition of where Kurt was going with this. "So I figure, I should make it worth all that trouble." Blaine laughed softly, his eyes glistening with tears, happy tears. "So I will continue to love you and be faithful to you for longer than forever." It wasn't time for the kiss, but Blaine couldn't resist and pulled Kurt to him, kissing him deeply.

"Boys," Burt cleared his throat from behind Kurt. They separated their lips, but their bodies remained pressed against its mate's.

"I do, sorry, yes, of course I do," Kurt remembered he hadn't technically answered the question, this time everyone laughed and the officiator sighed.

"Nothing I am about to say is going to top that, so you two just want to exchange the rings?" Kurt and Blaine both chuckled, unable to get rid of the grins that had been on their faces all day. They nodded and took the rings from the ring barrier, Blaine's nephew.

"Longer than forever huh?" Blaine asked quietly as he slid the gold band down Kurt's finger.

"If you'll have me, I will be with you for a thousand lifetimes," Kurt promised, putting Blaine's ring on his finger, both beaming as they clasped their hands together once again.

"By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I know pronounce you, husband and husband, you make kiss your groom." Both men grinned and kissed again, Kurt wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck and pulling him dramatically closer, getting laughter and several cheers. As they pulled away Kurt relinked their hands, both of their faces were lit up with happiness.

"It's about time," Blaine said as they walked down the aisle.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked,

"I've been wanting to marry you since I was sixteen." Blaine claimed, causing Kurt's smile to widen impossibly more.

The reception hall was tastefully decorated, clearly all Kurt's doing. David and Wesley were the DJs and they smiled warmly at the couple as they entered, hand in hand. After dinner Blaine stood and held out his hand for Kurt to take. It was taken nervously, for Blaine had not told Kurt what song they would be dancing to for their first dance.

"Ok, everyone shut up!" David yelled into the microphone, earning a bitch glare from Kurt, only to have Wes take the mic and grin at him.

"This song, could not be cheesier or more appropriate. Kurt, you had better like this, Blaine worked on this for months." Kurt looked at Blaine, confused until the song started.

"Oh my God," he whispered as Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, pressing their cheeks together. Blaine heard Kurt's breath hitch as Blaine's voice continued to echo over the speakers. Everyone who knew the importance of the song was tearing up, Rachel was out-right sobbing.

_**Let's go all the way tonight**_

_**No regrets, just love.**_

_**We can dance until we die, you and I**_

_**We'll be young forever….**_

Kurt wrapped his arms tighter around Blaine's neck as they danced slowly across the floor.

"You are unbelievable. Blaine knew Kurt's voice well enough to know that, that was a good thing.

"I did good?" Kurt asked, causing Kurt to laugh musically through the tears streaming down his face.

"You did amazing," Kurt agreed, and Blaine grinned wider and nuzzled his face into Kurt's neck, kissing the skin affectionately. "Do you ever feel like it's taken us centuries to get here?" Kurt asked, his eyes closed in happiness as his husband's voice continued to wash over him in the song that had caused him to fall in love.

"What do you mean?" Blaine replied, kissing Kurt's neck once more, though he didn't remove his lips from the flesh.

"I don't know, I just feel like our souls have always been connected, and now that we are finally here…I feels like we've always been meant to be here, together. Blaine grinned,

"I know," he agreed. When the song ended, Blaine dipped Kurt, kissing his lips tenderly, smiled as they stood back up right.

The rest of the night was spent dancing with each other as well as with family and friends, but they both had a difficult time keeping their eyes off of each other. Most would just assume they were happy about being married, but somehow, the boys knew there was more to it than that. It wasn't something they could figure out, but they could both feel that something larger was at work. Blaine called it God, Kurt called it the universe, but whatever it was, they couldn't stop smiling.

"Blaine…" Kurt moaned as he buried his face in their pillow. They had gone back to their apartment that night, with plans of heading to their honeymoon in Cancun the next day. Blaine was peppering Kurt's naked back with wet, open mouthed kisses, smiling with each one. "Honey, do you think I can get a rain check? I am so tired," Kurt murmured, burying his face in his pillow. Blaine pulled away sharply, looking down at his now husband.

"You're joking right? I mean, if you're not, I'm not going to be mad, but…this is our wedding night, even if we are home and I just assumed that we—" he stopped talking when he realized Kurt was laughing, even though it was muffled in the pillow. "Jerk," Blaine muttered, causing Kurt to pull his head up and laugh louder.

"Awww, my sweet, gorgeous husband is mad at me, how will I ever make it up to him," Blaine thought Kurt calling him husband was enough, but apparently not to Kurt, he slowly un-zipped Blaine's pants, grinning brightly up at Blaine, who could only smile in response. But that didn't last long as Kurt mouthed him through his underwear and Blaine was moaning like a cheap whore, but that tended to happen whenever Kurt touched him. It had started out as a joke, but then it became Blaine normal method of moaning, and it did things to Kurt, so he didn't dare stop. Kurt once said it was 'getting pleasure from pleasuring' and Blaine had done it ever since. Kurt loved it, because the sound couldn't be forced. It was a very specific sound that came out of Blaine's mouth, Kurt knew it better than he knew his own sex sounds, and he knew if Blaine was faking it. And when he wasn't faking it, it was the biggest ego boost ever. "I love you," Kurt said softly, having uncovered Blaine's swollen member.

"I—AAAAHHHHHHHHH," Kurt had just deep throated him on the first go and Blaine fought with everything he had to not come then and there. Kurt chuckled, causing vibrations to shoot through Blaine like a freight train and he bucked upward uncontrolled. Kurt gagged at the unexpected force, but continued to suck and Blaine stuttered, "If we weren't already married, I'd propose right now." Kurt pulled over with an obscene pop,

"Go ahead, I'll marry you again. Tonight, tomorrow, next week, next month," he ended punctuated every word with a kiss to different places on Blaine's skin, until Blaine couldn't stand it any longer and pulled Kurt up to him, kissing him hungrily. A lot of people would have brushed Kurt's words off as a wedding night high, but Blaine knew that Kurt didn't say things he didn't mean.

"Will you, Kurt Hummel-Anderson, spend the rest of your life with me? Make me the happiest and luckiest man in the world and be mine?" Kurt chuckled joyfully and kissed him deeply once more,

"Always and forever." Blaine flipped them over, both men were beaming, had anyone else been in the room that night they would have described the boys as 'glowing'. Kurt could feel the heat of Blaine breathing on his neck and he sighed contently. No, contently didn't even come close to describing how Kurt felt in that moment. Euphoric, elated, blissful, those came slightly closer to what it felt like when you suddenly realize, everything you have ever wanted in your life for yourself, has come true. And Kurt wasn't sure he'd ever really get it. Logically, yes, he knew he had as much chance of falling in love and having someone fall in love with him, as anybody. He knew if he worked hard and had enough luck that he could one day be working on Broadway, he had been extremely lucky and had his big break a year out of college. He knew that he could legally get married and live happily ever after, he just didn't think he actually _would_.

"You make me feel like I will never want for anything else, ever again, because I have you, and the rest of it, doesn't matter." Blaine whispered onto Kurt's skin, causing the taller boy to tremble slightly and grab at Blaine, his hands gripping his back tightly.

"Blaine, now," Kurt whined softly, clawing at the skin under his hands. Blaine pulled back just enough to look at his husband, a word he didn't think he would ever get used to, and kissed his cheeks lightly.

"Hmm, as a now married man, I guess it is my duty to please my husband," Blaine claimed, deepening a kiss and pushing his pants down. Kurt smiled softly up at him,

"As is my duty to please my husband, but you first, then I'll take care of you." Blaine knew he would never admit to his friends the moan that escaped his lips in that moment. Sure, he bragged all the time about what an amazing lover his partner was, in fact he often like to rub the fact in that Kurt was exceptional in bed. However, he'd never told them how much of a wreck he was in bed, only Kurt knew that, a fact that Kurt loved.

They made love slow and long that night, rememorizing each other's bodies, lingering on each other's hot spots, making sure that not a single inch of the other went untouched, unkissed, or unlicked. After their third time they laid entangled in each other's arms, spent, as Kurt tickled Blaine's arms while Blaine drew on Kurt's stomach. A moment passed when Kurt smiled as he recognized what Blaine was writing on his skin. His finger drew a straight line with two shorter ones on the top and bottom of the line…_**I**__. _Blaine looked up at Kurt to make sure he understood what he was doing and received a kiss for his trouble. Then Blaine began again. A line with a perpendicular line at the bottom…**L. ** A circle…_**O**_. Two diagonal line and met at the bottom…_**V**_. One straight vertical line with three shorter perpendicular lines equal width apart…_**E.**_

"You are being incredible cheesy and romantic, you know that right?" Kurt asked, smiling like the fool in love that he was.

"Mmmhmm," Blaine said softly as he continued to paint invisible letters on Kurt. A short vertical line with two diagonal lines at the top…_**Y**_. Another circle…_**O. **_And finally, an upside down arch…_**U. **_Kurt leaned down and kissed Blaine soft and deeply,

"I love you too." This. This was how life was supposed to be, this was how one should feel in the arms of their lover.

Three weeks later they were back from their honeymoon, they stopped in Ohio before heading home to New York. But they were still very clearly still in their honeymoon phase, though if you asked anyone, they had been in that phase since the day they met.

"Babe, will you hand me the salt?" Blaine asked, holding out his hand as his other one did not stop whisking the eggs. Instead of salt, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist and kissed his neck softly,

"Dad can't have salt."

"Sure I can," Burt claimed, though a glare from Kurt quickly changed his mind. Rachel chuckled as she bounced her 10 month old daughter on her knee. She had given up Broadway for Finn and a family, and though she would occasionally come to NYC and watch Kurt with envy, she loved her life. She taught drama and co-headed glee at McKinley, Finn had taken over Burt's car shop and their daughter Ava, was the light of their lives. Kurt detached from Blaine and went back to fixing the turkey bacon, ignoring Carole when she tried to help,

"Boys, you just got here yesterday, let me cook." Kurt shook his head, kissing her cheek,

"You cook all the time, Carole, sit back and enjoy the break." Carole sighed but nodded, sitting at the table, only to have Burt come over and wrap his arms around her, kissing her cheek lightly. Finn groaned as he entered and the first thing he saw was Kurt and Blaine grin at each other,

"You two are never going to change are you?" Blaine chuckled,

"Nope, get used to it." Suddenly Kurt blind-sided him with a wooden spoon to his butt. He gasped and turned to his husband who flashed the spoon like a sword, "Oh, that's how it's gonna be?" Kurt laughed and raised his eyebrow challengingly and Blaine of course accepted. He grabbed a spatula and held it in a fighting position, then Kurt lunged. Blaine laughed and dodged quickly, twisting around to try to catch Kurt's back, but Kurt was quicker and ducked. Coming up he aimed his spoon at Blaine's stomach and plunged it forward, nearly catching him, but Blaine jumped back and swiped his spatula down, nearly hitting Kurt. But Kurt laughed and playfully kicked his leg out, knocking Blaine behind the knee. It certainly wasn't hard enough to knock him down, but just enough to catch him off balance.

"At least it's a fair fight this time," Kurt claimed, grinning.

"It's not as if you needed it to be fair to win," Blaine replied, chuckling as he stepped aside as Kurt swung at him again.

"You two do this often?" Carole asked amused as Kurt grabbed Blaine's wrist as he moved to hit him from the left, and kissed his lips before letting him go and smacking Blaine's side.

"Ok, that was cheating," Blaine answered, charging forward.

"How is that?" Kurt asked as he grabbed the side of the counter and kicked his legs out in a round off kick that got him out of another attempted attack.

"You distracted me with your delicious lips, cheating," Blaine declared, but he was smirking.

"I swear to God, if they are still doing this by Christmas I may have to lock them in Kurt's room," Finn stated, shaking his head.

"As long as you don't separate us," Kurt replied, turning quickly and getting behind Blaine only to grab the spatula and wrap his arms around Blaine's shoulders. "I win," he giggled, biting Blaine's ear gently.

"Mmm, your dad is giving me the stink eye," Blaine whispered even as he let out a shaky breath of pleasure. Kurt pulled away laughing,

"Dad, we're married now, I've already made him an honest man, I'm just making sure we keep the passion alive, it's been three whole weeks, I mean, we don't want to get stale,"

"I don't think that is going to be a problem any time soon," Finn said, rolling his eyes. Kurt grinned brightly and kissed Blaine once more, this time deep and on the lips.

"I love you," Blaine whispered as they parted and knew he would never, ever not want to see the light in Kurt's eyes at those words.

"I love you too," Kurt replied, and Burt smiled softly, his son had gotten everything he'd ever wanted, and it was something Burt would never want that to change.

That night as they laid in Kurt's old bed, Blaine knew Kurt wasn't asleep yet, even though Kurt hadn't moved in nearly half an hour.

"Kurt," he said softly so that Kurt would continue to sleep if he wanted to pretend.

"Mmm," Kurt hummed, causing Blaine to hold him tighter, unsure how he could love his husband this much.

"When we decide to have kids, do you want a boy or a girl first?" Kurt's eyes snapped open. Okay, 'first' meant that Blaine wanted to have more than one, and honestly, Kurt was still getting used to the fact that there was a chance they would get ONE.

"A boy," he admitted honestly, that's always what he pictured, "But I don't really care, as long as you are there when they are put into our arms."

"A little boy named Toronto, right?" Blaine asked, his lips against Kurt's skin.

"You know me so well," Kurt whispered, happily in reply. As they drifted off to sleep their dreams were sure to be filled with images of a little boy name Toronto, who had his Daddy's blue eyes and his Papa's love of Disney and Harry Potter.

**Three years later….three years later….Three years later**

"Ok, no more!" Kurt moaned dramatically, "One more Katy Perry song and I may scream!" Blaine smiled softly, knowing how much Katy Perry and her songs meant to both of them. They were on their way home from a date, despite being married they still went out a least once a week, where there would be no talk of bills or work or family stresses. It was all about each other, movies, music, food, and even though they already knew nearly everything about each other, they had both grown to love spending an evening rememorizing each other. They'd been married going on three years and they were being considered for the adoption of a little boy from Ithaca, New York. They would find out in the next two weeks whether they would get the boy or if the straight couple from Chelsey would. Both men had tried to not get their hopes up, knowing the likelihood of getting a child over a straight couple would be slim, but still, technically they had a 50/50 chance.

"Katy Perry is the reason we are married," Blaine replied, playfully, baiting his lover.

"No, Katy Perry is the reason I fell in love with you, The Beatles are the reason we are married." Blaine chuckled lightly and leaned over to kiss Kurt deeply. It was a quite night in Long Island, there were hardly any cars on the street and Kurt laid his head on Blaine's shoulder once the kiss was over.

"How is it possible that we've been together twelve years, and I still feel like a love struck teenager around you?" Blaine asked softly, smiling, turning to nuzzle his nose in Kurt's hair.

"I don't know, probably because you're always horny," Kurt teased, causing Blaine to scoff,

"I don't hear you complaining." Kurt giggled and tugged at Blaine's earlobe with his teeth,

"I never said it was a bad thing, Babe." Blaine chuckled, sighing contently, there were just a few blocks from their townhouse and another wonderful evening with his husband.

_When the winds don't blow_

_When today is just a memory to me, I know_

_I'll still be lovin',  
>I'll still be lovin' you.<br>I'll still be lovin' you.  
>Never before did I know,<br>How loving someone could be.  
>Now I can see you and me,<br>For a lifetime.  
>Until the last moon is rising,<br>You'll see the love in my eyes, my love.  
>I'll be yours until the sun doesn't shine,<br>'Til time stands still,_

Blaine looked down at Kurt confused,

"What is that song? And why does it sound familiar to me?" he asked.

"Hmmm, it was one of my mom's old records, done by Restless Heart," Kurt replied softly, "It was popular in the 80's." Blaine smiled,

"I don't think I've ever heard it, but it's like I know it." Kurt chuckled softly,

"Maybe you've knew it in your last life."

"Last life? Really, Kurt? You don't believe in God but you believe in reincarnation?" Blaine asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Who said the two are mutually exclusive?" Kurt replied, kissing Blaine's neck tenderly. "Besides, I've felt from the moment I met you that you were it, my only option, and call me a romantic, but I fully believe in soul mates, and that you are mine."

"So you think that if reincarnation exists, our souls always find each other?" Blaine asked, smiling at the thought of spending an eternity of lifetimes with the man next to him.

"I think it's possible. I know I would search for you, if I could," Kurt answered. Blaine grinned,

"I would too. After all, I told you when we got together that I felt like I'd be looking for you forever."

"Mmmhmm," Kurt hummed, linking their hands. Blaine knew there was one single thing that could make their lives more perfect, a little boy in the back seat, drifting to sleep after a long day. That was as close to heaven as Blaine could think of. "BLAINE!" he heard the scream before he saw the head lights, before he heard the glass shatter and the metal fold. Then it was an incoherent minute of flipping and spinning, and screaming, who was screaming? Kurt was screaming, and not in fear, but in pain. It was when the scream went silent and Blaine felt the car stop, thankfully right side up, that his eyes searched for Kurt. There was blood in his eyes from a head wound he must have gotten, though he didn't feel it, he quickly wiped it away so he could see properly. Kurt was still next to him, his seatbelt keeping him in place, but not doing much else. His eyes were closed, with blood streaming down his face,

"Kurt-" Blaine moaned, trying to move his hand to get to Kurt. Kurt didn't make a sound, didn't move, didn't even appear to be breathing. "Kur-" blood, coming from his ear, no! "NO!" he roared, and darkness started to invade his vision. And whether his body finally went unconscious from the pain or if his soul quit seeing anything but darkness in a world where Kurt could be dying, Blaine wasn't sure. But he knew, there would be no life for him without Kurt, they were soul mates for a reason. _Kurt_…

_(Hides behind bolder) There's a part two so don't kill me! I've known it was going to end this way since I started writing them and a present time came to mind. But one more chapter! So don't hunt me down or anything! Hope you enjoyed it up until I put them in a terrible car crash. Thanks for reading! Please review! _


	12. Present Part 2

_Ooh ok, the beginning was a bit more angsty than I intended but… Hope you enjoy anyway. And look for the past lives references, there are several. I don't own any one or any song in this chapter. Please please review._

The incessant blaring of a set of regularly timed beeps was the first thing Blaine heard when he was aware of being conscious again. His mind searched for the reason as to why he had been unconscious…Katy Perry, The Beatles, 80's ballads, reincarnation, scream, glass, metal…Kurt. Oh God, Kurt, he'd been bleeding, out of his ears, no, not Kurt.

"Kurt…" he groaned as he tried to yell out his partner's name, maybe he would be able to hear him this time, maybe he could wake Kurt up in time for the ambulance to get there.

"Blaine!" The voice was familiar, and one of his favorites in the world, Carole. Blaine slowly pried up his eyes and looked at her; she looked tired, and worried. He wasn't waiting for the ambulance to come, it had come and taken them, they were at a hospital now. The beeping that he'd heard was his heart monitor,

"Where is Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice shaking, terrified of the answer.

"We've been so worried about you, Sweetie," Carole cooed as she skillfully dodged the answer.

"Where is he?" Blaine's voice sounded fairly stern, especially considering his condition, the full extent of which Blaine wouldn't be bothered with right now.

"Blaine-" Carole began and Blaine couldn't wait any longer. If Kurt was dead he had to know, he had to know if everything he'd ever dreamed of was ended.

"WHERE IS HE, CAROLE?" He yelled with a force that caused every inch of him to ache, but once again, he couldn't bring himself to care. Carole looked taken aback but then her face fell in understanding and pain, and Blaine thought he was going to vomit.

"He's in ICU, on a ventilator, they don't know if he'll make it," she said, her voice breaking as she reported the news about her beloved stepson to his husband. Blaine froze for a moment before moving to climb to his feet. Two things told him that was a bad idea, one: pain he didn't know was possible for a body to physically feel engulf him, and two: Carole lunged forward and grabbed his shoulders to keep him down. "Blaine, Honey, you were hurt too, you can't get out of bed," she claimed but Blaine looked up at her defiantly.

"Just watch me," he said then, more cautiously, tried to sit up. This time he succeeded, but the next moment a nurse came in,

"Oh no you don't Sir, you have to stay in bed at least another week, here something to ease the pain." And knock you out, Blaine realized as his body almost instantly betrayed him, he let out a whimper as he fell back on the pillow.

"No, Kurt. See, Kurt- Carole-tell him- Kurt…" Carole choked back tears as she watched her son-in-law fight sleep with everything he had as he called out for his husband. She didn't wish to think about what would happen to Blaine if Kurt didn't make it.

Three days past before Blaine was able to even attempt to get out of bed, he did it differently this time though. He waited until he was alone; until the middle of the night, when there were only a few nurses on duty and Carole had manage to lure Burt to the hotel. He had been informed that Kurt still hadn't woken up. His spleen had been punctured along with his lung from 5 broken ribs, his right arm was nearly shattered and his ankle was sprained. He had also suffered internal bleeding and his ear drum had busted from the impact, which is what had caused the bleeding Blaine saw. But it didn't make him feel any better, Kurt had still received a nearly fatal concussion and they kept telling him, Kurt was lucky to be alive.

Blaine groaned softly as he put his feet on the ground. His own injuries were far milder than Kurt's, only three broken ribs, a mild concussion and a bruised liver, and the usual cuts and bruises that came with a car accident. And they had, had to do surgery to align his ribs, so that they would heal correctly. The incision from the surgery hurt more than the actual injuries. He gingerly walked out of the room, checking both ways before heading to the elevators. ICU was two floors up and Blaine knew he would have to manage to convince the night nurse there to let him in. When the elevator finally dinged at the ICU, Blaine felt sick, how could this happen to them? Had they not paid enough in their lives? Blaine knew he wouldn't survive if Kurt died, he didn't want to survive.

The nurse looked at him and instantly a look of disapproval came over her features.

"Please," Blaine begged, and she must have seen the pain and desperation in his eyes as she turned her back meaningfully and continued to look through paperwork. Blaine sighed in relief and tiptoed silently into the area. The rooms were secluded from each other using curtains instead of doors, Blaine assumed so the doctors could enter more quickly. It didn't take him but a minute to find Kurt's room and he slipped in there noiselessly. The under of his eyes were black and his skin was pale; they had been able to take him off the ventilator, but he was still receiving oxygen through a tube up his nose. His arm was in a cast and his leg was elevated, but otherwise, he looked fairly normal. "Kurt," he whispered, lowering himself slowly into the chair next to the bed. He reached up and took Kurt's uncasted hand and kissed its surface tenderly. "I am so sorry," he said as he stroked Kurt's knuckles with his thumb. Carole had told him that the driver who had hit them had fallen asleep and ran a stop sign, but Blaine couldn't help but think if he'd been paying more attention, they wouldn't be here. "I love you, and you can't leave me, I can't lose you." He hadn't meant to start crying, he thought he had prepared himself to see his partner like this, but hearing about it and seeing how lifeless Kurt looked were two very different things. Kurt was always so full of life, his eyes burning with fire and his smile made Blaine feel like nothing could ever hurt him. But Kurt's eyes remained closed and his lips were closed and straight, "My love," Blaine whimpered and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Kurt's lips, praying with everything he had that the kiss would be returned. But the lips remained motionless and Blaine's tears continued to flow.

"Mr. Anderson-Hummel," a voice snapped, causing Blaine to jump out of sleep and causing a searing pain up his, he cried out, before looking up at nurse panting. "Do you have any idea how worried we were?" She scolded him with an amount of sympathy in her voice, but Blaine wasn't in the mood to receive any type of lecture, not when his husband remained unconscious. "Let's get you back to your room, right now."

"No," Blaine said firmly, rejoining his hand with Kurt's as they had been separated during the night.

"Sir, I know how you feel but it's policy, that as long—" Blaine's face turned sharply to her,

"Policy?" The voice didn't seem to truly belong to Blaine, it was harsh and angry, and the nurse seemed taken by surprise. "I have been kept away from him because of _policy_ enough!" Blaine was unaware of standing, but as he stalked toward the nurse, he wasn't going to be stopped. "And how the _fuck_ would you know how I feel? Have you ever had to watch the person that you love fight for their life? Have you ever had to justify your love for that person, over and over? Have you ever been told that you're wrong, that you're evil, that you are going to _burn in hell_ for LOVING someone? I don't think so! So before you go around telling people what your policy is, why don't you fucking think about the fact that the thing they need the most, is to be with the person that makes them better! The person that makes them feel alive, and happy, and like all the _shit_ that they have to go through is all worth it! Because as long as I have him, I can breathe, I can smile, and I can survive. We made a vow to spend the rest of our lives together, and if his happens to be shorter," Blaine's voice caught in his throat, but he swallow hard and continued, "Then it is going to take a fucking army to separate us." The nurse stood, staring at him, her mouth gaping open, "And one more thing…"

"All right, Tiger, come on before you hurt yourself more," Finn entered the room, placing his hands gently on Blaine's shoulders. Blaine looked up at him, trying to look menacing, but he was pretty sure he just looked exhausted.

"I could beat an army," Blaine said quietly, though there was a growl to his voice. Finn nodded,

"I have no doubt, man, but I don't think it's the best idea to piss off the people with needles." Blaine let out a short, tired chuckle before sighing and looking at the nurse, who still looked rather apprehensive. "Now, I know it's not typical, but is there any way he can stay here?" Finn asked her, using a more gentle approach. The nurse hesitated and Blaine's face warped back into a scowl and the nurse nodded,

"But he needs to be hooked up to an IV, he still needs to be taking antibiotics for his incision, and I think we should make sure he didn't pop a stitch." Finn turned to Blaine who shrugged in agreement,

"Now see, was that so hard? I swear, Kurt has taught you bitchiness." This time Blaine laughed, though it was more of just being relieved that he wouldn't be physically forced away from Kurt, and that is what it would take, that and a heavy dose of horse tranquilizers .

"I could hear you all the way down the hall," Burt now entered the room, "What are you doing out of your bed?" He spoke to Blaine exactly like he spoke to Kurt when he was worried about his son, and Blaine's heart hurt for the love he held for his husband's father. The person who had comforted him when his own biological father had refused to attend his wedding, the man who had told him that the person he would have picked for his son, didn't even come close to how good Blaine was.

"I couldn't be apart from him anymore," Blaine murmured.

"The nurse said he could stay as long as he got an IV," Finn explained. Burt studied Blaine for a moment before turning to the nurse,

"Are you sure that ok? It won't impede his recover any?"

"Burt," Blaine whined, he was a grown man and could make his own decisions.

"No, Blaine Anderson-Hummel, if Kurt knew you were risking your health for him, he'd rip you a new one, and you know it." Burt claimed, and Blaine looked over at his still sleeping husband, and knew Burt was right.

"He should be fine, as long as he doesn't move around too much, eats what he should and gets that IV, we'll keep an eye on him as well, just to be sure." The nurse explained, as Blaine turned his attention back to Kurt, who had remained silent and still through all of that. It sent a sinking feeling in Blaine's stomach that if THAT hadn't woken Kurt up, then what possibly could.

Two more days passed and Blaine was at the end of his rope. There had been only minor improvements to Kurt's brain function, he was breathing 100% on his own, but that, to Blaine, wasn't enough. Everyone tried to be as delicate as possible when in the room, as if Blaine might break, and at this point, he wasn't so sure they were wrong. Despite begging, pleading, and threatening, no one had been able to get Blaine to leave Kurt's side. There was something about the idea of leaving him at night that Blaine felt like his very soul was being ripped out. So he stayed, 24 hours a day, his meals were delivered in Kurt's room, the nurse came there to change his IV bag, he was sure he was breaking a lot of the hospital rules, but as he studied Kurt's porcelain features, he couldn't bring himself to care.

There were times when visitors would speak about him and Kurt as if they weren't there to hear it. He figured it was because he seemed to be almost as unconscious as his husband. He only spoke when spoken to, unless he was telling someone he wasn't going anywhere, and he rarely even made eye contact with anyone.

"Have they heard about the baby?" Tina's words were the first to truly catch his attention in a while.

"No, not yet," Carole replied, "We've been taking shifts staying at their house, in case they get the call." The little boy with blue eyes and a love of Harry Potter had been all but forgotten in the past five days. Blaine's heart broke even further as his daydream of the baby falling asleep in the back of the car warped into images of Kurt's funeral and Blaine's life alone. "Blaine, Sweetheart," Carole's warm, concerned voice brought him out of his nightmare, only for him to realize he had tears streaming down his face.

"We were going to be so happy," Blaine choked, "We were going to be this great family, we knew he had blue eyes and I figured we'd teach him guitar and piano and drums and we were going to name him Toronto." Blaine was now sobbing in Carole's arms as she shushed him gently,

"Who says you aren't going to get all of that?" She asked gently stroking his head.

"He's been unconscious for FIVE days! What am I supposed to tell the agency if they call and we got him? 'Oh by the way, my husband is in a coma and he may die, how do you feel about single parents?'" Blaine cried angrily. "We've already had to fight and fight and fill out triple the paperwork just to get a chance! And now.."

"Quit acting like he's already gone, Blaine," Burt said strictly. "I have never known my son to give up and to be quite honest, I don't think he's about to start now. So why don't you at least pretend that he still has a chance, and that you two could see have your happily ever after? Isn't that what you've always wanted? Haven't you already had to fight hell and high water just to get this far? This is just one more battle, but that doesn't mean you just tuck your tail and quit fighting." Blaine blinked slowly at Burt before looking at Kurt who slept on. How dare he give up on Kurt? Kurt was the strongest, most stubborn, toughest person Blaine had ever known, if anyone could make it out of this, it would be him. But Blaine was tired, tired of being optimistic and honestly a little idealistic, only to have his heart broken.

Another day passed and Blaine wasn't sure how he even had tears to cry, but as he crawled into the hospital bed with Kurt, he managed to find them and they streamed into his hair line and onto Kurt's gown. He was lying uncomfortable on his side, but he didn't want to hurt Kurt, and his pain wasn't that bad. And his need to be close to his husband again far outweighed the aching in his side.

_Where has the time all gone to  
>Haven't done half the things we want to<br>Oh well, We'll catch up some other time_

_This day was just a token  
>Too many words are still unspoken<br>Oh Well, we'll catch up some other time_

_Just when the fun is starting  
>comes the time for parting<br>let's just be glad for what we had  
>And what's to come<em>

"Why are you singing that depressing song?" A voice, the most beautiful voice Blaine had ever heard, whispered into the darkness of the room.

"Kurt?" Blaine sat up, careful not to hurt Kurt, and praying with everything he had that he was not dreaming. Cerulean eyes looked back at him and Blaine felt as if he could breathe again. Sobs ripped harder out of his chest, but there were mixed in with laughter and kisses as he kissed Kurt's lips first before attacking his face with light but desperate pecks.

"You could have at least sung 'Fucking Perfect'," Kurt continued, even as he was smiling and returning the kisses whenever they were placed on his lips.

"I didn't have my duet partner to sing it with me," Blaine explained, unable to stop smiling.

"I love you, and I'll always be here to sing duets with you," Kurt said and Blaine once again sobbed, but he was still grinning.

"I love you too, so much and don't you ever do that to me again," he scolded. Kurt smiled,

"I promise. Were you hurt?" Blaine kissed him again, this time deeply on the lips, his hands on each side of Kurt's face.

"I have never been better than I am right now," Blaine claimed as he pulled away.

"Really? Because you look like crap," Kurt teased, and Blaine could do nothing but laugh and bury his face in Kurt's neck.

"God, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, or anything really," Blaine said softly, one hand running through Kurt's hair, the other cupped around Kurt's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"Dad shouldn't have fussed at you today, I get why you were so upset," Kurt whispered and Blaine pulled back as he realized Kurt had heard his queen out earlier.

"I'm sorry," Blaine replied, earning a confused looked from Kurt,

"For what?"

"Doubting that you would wake up, and we'd get on with our lives," Blaine admitted shamefully. Kurt chuckled softly,

"Honey, I would have been a blithering mess, in my opinion, you did good." Blaine smiled and once again wrapped his arms around Kurt, mindful of bruises and broken bones.

"Oh yeah, I have to call them," Blaine said but Kurt shook his head,

"Not yet, just lay here with me a little bit longer." As if Blaine would argue a request like that.

**Two years later….Two years later….Two years later….**

"Daddy!" Toronto cried as Kurt entered the apartment. The toddler ran into Kurt's open arms, squealing with happiness as Kurt began to spin around wildly. They both laughed as Kurt stopped and kissed Toronto's head, "Me kiss Daddy," he said. Kurt propped him on his hip and grinned as Toronto kissed his lips in the messy two year old way.

"Where's Papa?" He asked, stealing one more kiss from his son, who beamed and pointed towards the kitchen. "Were you a good boy today?" he asked,

"No, he was an absolute terror," Blaine said before Toronto could answer. Both men smiled at each other, as Toronto whined in protest.

"Was a good boy!" he pouted, crossing his arms. Blaine chuckled,

"Well we know he gets his attitude from his Daddy." Kurt glared at him for a moment before smirking and leaning in for a deep kiss of greeting to his husband.

"Good boy, Daddy!" Toronto cried, refusing to be ignored.

"I know, Tor, you are always Daddy's good boy," Kurt said, giving his son eskimo kisses. Toronto giggled before wiggling out of Kurt's arms to go back to what he'd been doing before, which was apparently using pots and pans as drums. Blaine winced slightly as he pulled Kurt into his arms,

"How was your day?" He asked, kissing him once more,

"Great." Kurt replied, smiling down at their son before kissing Blaine again, "And just keeps getting better." Suddenly the phone rang and Blaine sighed in slight annoyance of having to release his husband, before going over to answer.

"Hello," he said as he covered his ears in order to drown out Toronto's banging of kitchenware. Kurt shushed Toronto, motioning to Blaine and holding his hand up to his ear to symbolize a phone. Toronto paused, looking up at Blaine whose eyes lit up and his face split into a grin. "Are you serious!" He cried, pulling Kurt up and wrapping one arm around his waist. Kurt looked at him confused, "The baby girl," he whispered.

"We got her?" Kurt shrieked happily. Blaine nodded as he laughed and Kurt wrapped his arms tightly around Blaine's neck.

"Thank you so much, yes ma'am we'll be there next Monday," Blaine cheered as he hung up, swinging Kurt around, kissing him once more before releasing him and scooping Toronto up in his arms. "You're getting a little sister, Tor, what do you think of that?" Blaine asked, Toronto scowled and shook his head,

"No," he declared. Kurt laughed,

"We'll work on that." As Blaine looked at the two people in his arms, he thought that maybe this would be the best way to spend forever.

_And they lived happily ever after… The End. Hehe I hope you all liked that I gave them a happy ending this time. Thank you for everyone who stayed with me through it all. xoxo PLEASE REVIEW!_


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